Shades of Gotham
by Alaura Nova Shadowmane
Summary: Youth, a time in one's life when difficult choices have to be made, reach the point of the craving of satisfaction. She is a woman of allure with a haunting past that wants to taste the thrill of freedom. He is a man that wants to be spared from his own pain. Together they cross paths. Endure hardships of the storms they face and fall in love.
1. Chapter 1: Introductions

**Shades of Gotham  
**

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**Batman created by Bob Kane  
**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of these DC comic characters**

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**Summary :Youth, a time in one's life when difficult choices have to be made, reach the point of the craving of satisfaction. She is a woman of allure with a haunting past that wants to taste the thrill of freedom. He is a man that wants to be spared from his own pain. Together they cross paths. Endure hardships and fall in love.**

* * *

A ball point black inked pen wrote on line paper.

_How can I move on with my life when the ache still rages within my shallow shell? All I feel is the inner desire of vengeance coursing through my veins._

_Alfred tries to make me forget. I will never forget that night when my pampered life changed. My eyes witnessed the cruel hands of fate taking away the two people who I loved the most - gone in a flash as the trigger was pulled. All I saw was the pearls rolled into the bloody puddles as tears screamed down my eyes. I knew then that I was alone in this dark world. No comfort - no love left in my heart to give. All that is left is a monster trapped within this shell waiting to be unleashed._

_Now I'm living another person's delusion. Going to this school where women don't share the common topics of romance. All these girls care about is foreplay or dorm bedding and making men become aroused with guilty pleasure._

_Not my forte._

_There's something more to this life that I live... something that is hidden. They told me that there was nothing out there. No fear was left in the shadows. They were wrong.._.

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**Chapter 1 : Introductions**

* * *

Layers of ash grey rain clouds passed as the cold October wind carried them over the bare oak trees. The rush of air was brisk on fingertips as the pair of hazel eyes of Bruce Wayne glimpsed out at the twirling dry leaves.

Each time he inhaled, his lungs filled with the cold air. He felt the nippy air under the layer of Navy denim. Shafts of sunlight poked through the grim colored sky.

Bruce sat on the bleachers of the football field writing in his binder. Being only twenty-years old his life was already planned for him. Once he was finished with his studies he would be given the duties of the CEO of Wayne Enterprises. It is what his father Thomas Wayne wanted.

Deep down he didn't want to spend his days trapped behind the white painted walls of the office. This restless soul wanted to have freedom - taste the thrills that life offered and most of all have an ambition. A strong desire of succeeding over a mortal goal that he kept locked within.

He slid his binder into his book bag. His eyes gazed at his Rolex. "Now I'm late. For another boring lecture." He murmured, strapping his bag over his broad shoulders and mounted down the steel bleachers that always made him feel light-headed every time he descended another step.

A few minutes later, Bruce was slouched in a desk chair in an English Literature classroom staring out through the vast window as the clouds rolled by wondered by. His grey haired professor was wearing a jacket in the middle of October. He assumed it was because the heat wasn't turned on at the right time. He shifted his gaze over to the side desk across and caught the smell of a sweet aroma and quickly lifted his pen.

Sitting looking all prim and proper in a black shirt and high heeled boots was Clair Boudoise - a French international student with deep chestnut hair in a tight fitted bun and ocean color eyes. She was a little round in the face, small lips but still delightful to gaze at. Like a French pastry covered with caramel.

Then his focused relayed back to the rambling professor that went on and on about Middle Ages poets and dramatists and other stuff that Bruce considered nonessential to any conceivable life that he might find himself living. He just had to be grim and bear a few classes and then he would get his credit.

Today's topic: The Knight of the Burning Pestle - which was all about the mockery of the rising of the middle class with a grocers son that becomes a knight seeking to win a princess heart.

Bruce wrote down the word "_knight_" in the middle of his handwritten notes.

He shot another glance at Clair who was writing down the notes and looking joyful while he remained trapped in his purgatory that seemed to never end.

When the lecture was over, Bruce arose making a vow to himself that he would never waste this amount of time on old English texts. He rubbed his temple and grabbed his notes.

* * *

Ten minutes later, Bruce was walking across the quadrangle towards the clock tower in the center of the campus. He stopped in front of the tower and looked at his wrist watch and released a sigh.. He had promised his childhood friend Thomas Elliot that he would meet him there after class. This time he was faulted for being late.

A tall man with feverish streaks of red walked up to him. His blue colored eyes stared at the passing women who blushed at his charming presence.

Bruce just stood there rolling his eyes. "Always the charmer, aren't you, Tommy?"

Thomas smirked. "I try not to be." He drew closer to Bruce. "How was that boring class of yours today? Learn anything?"

"Nothing that is worth studying over." Bruce teased.

Why do you even put up with that class, Bruce. Join the biology. It's more interesting than reading about dead authors and their works of art."

Bruce felt condemned. "I do not want to become a doctor." He grimace at the very word. That was Thomas Wayne's profession. "I don't want be like my father."

Thomas understood his friends choice. "It was just a suggestion. Besides I don't think you would have the heart for saving people. You're too mixed up with your own grief that..."

"What?" There was a dander in his voice. "Is that what people around here are saying about me? That I'm poor Brucie lost into his world of a melancholy."

"You do look unapproachable sometimes." Thomas confessed, gazing at his downhearted friend that he grew up with in the gardens of Wayne Manor along with the one of the house maid's daughter Rachel Dawes whom he knew that Bruce had a crush on.

Bruce's countenance turned in a moody stubborn brats expression as anger rose up inside. "Well the hell with you, we can't all live in an ideal world." He stormed off with a darkened look. His eyes became filled with remorse to anyone who drew near to him.

Thomas stood there abased for the words his lips bought forth. He knew that Bruce was going through a laborious time. All he could do was be there when Bruce needed him.

* * *

A pair of sleek perforated thigh-high boots hit the pavement of East End Gotham City as a young woman, with foxy deep rich chocolate hair, made her way down the misty streets.

Inside her brown eyes, dim shadows hid in the dazzling iris as she stopped at the cross walk. Men gazed at the luster of her rich thick legs that were covered with a short black skirt. She wore a plain shade black sweater and a heart shaped chain.

Within her curved body she thought that the gloomy scenery was almost too surreal to her. The pain that she kept looked inside the vice of her own heart. She felt condemned as eyes glared her down.

"Does not matter what people think or what they think of me. I couldn't give a damn about their lifestyles." She muttered, crossing the street with her head high and shoulders straight. The heels of her boots clicked on the pavement across. She stood in front of a run down apartment brothel that many prostitutes called "Gotham's Sin" and pinched her frozen cheeks together to get the blood flowing under her flesh.

She was tired of feeling the bitterness of the cold. Tired of lusting after someones gutless dreams. Being lost into a shadowy world as unbearable to this restless high spirited Selina Kyle.

The door opened revealing a larger woman with ginger hair. She looked at the 18 year old with hungry eyes.

Selina narrowed her dark eyes down and looked at the bruises of her wrists. "Bad girls never get the taste of freedom. They only desire it." She bolted across the street and grasped her hands on the fence. Tears of anger were streaming down her flawless youthful face as her mascara ran down, making dark watery lines on her creamed colored skin.

"Damn," That was the cursed her lips spat.

She closed her eyes and inhaled the fresh cold air. To her surprise it smelt fresh which was a huge shock spending most of her teenage life in a dingy city. She opened her eyes and raced towards the club.

The ginger haired woman was waiting by the door with a displeased look. "You're late." That was the harsh voice that entered Selina's ears. "Lucky for you I believe in second chances. You have five minutes to get your act together kid."

Selina nodded in response at her employer's request and walked across the street back to the fence. A basket of emotions swept over her. Distress, disturbed and edgy. She could not believe that the path of life she chose lead to this predicament of selling her own body for the sexual urges of men.

She lifted her head to fix a stare at the crumbling brick wall apartment that reeked of incest, heavy toxin smoke and scum. All the windows were covered with newspaper and high heel shoes rested on the balcony railings.

"What have you gotten yourself into?"

Walking across the sidewalks with his head hanging down and wearing a sandy cashmere overcoat was Bruce Wayne. He had just gotten back home from Princeton.

He arranged to meet his old butler Alfred Pennyworth at the parking lot of Wayne Enterprises at 8pm but decided he needed to have some time to clear his thoughts before he made it to the financial district.

* * *

The overcast was growing dark. Shadows started to form in the back alleys that he passed. He breathed in the fall air as it entered his lungs. The obscurity of his soul was aching as he looked down at the tips of his dress shoes.

Bruce was ready to give a shout of rage when he lifted his head and saw the most beautiful alluring woman who his eyes ever gazed at. She was still in adolescent years. As he met her enigmatic eyes full of inner torment that she covered with glamor and charisma, her features were darkened with shades of an unforgiving past.

_Whoa._

After that moment of watching each other, Bruce crossed the street and drew closer ready to say the first word between them.

"Excuse me," A gentle tone came from his warm lips. "You alright?" Studying her closely, his piercing gaze swept over her beauty - sleek deep rich chocolate hair, delicate build and her crimson lips. But what caught his attention was the chasm in her darkened eyes. He had never seen a shade of brown like that before. It was like they were a part of a charade she wore to hide the true woman underneath.

Selina shifted a shadowy gaze at him. With a hand she wiped the tears from her eyes. "Fine. Never better."

"You don't seem fine." He replied.

"Look I don't really care about your concern for me. In fact I find it rather pathetic that you take pity on a stray like me handsome. Sorry, but taking strangers' pity is so not my style." Selina spat in a defensive manner.

"I didn't mean to offend you."

"Quit being modest. I can clearly see that you're putting on an act." Selina affirmed, seeing right through the mask that he wore to conceal his own pain. Her gazed surveyed his features well, keeping a guard up - his chocolate windswept hair with heights of ginger in the thick strands, athletic build and his strong chiseled jaw. He still had his boyish features as he appeared a little round in the cheeks on his handsome face.

Bruce's lips became snug. "What's an attractive woman like yourself doing in a place like this?"

Selina studied his expressions and the wardrobe he wore. "What's a rich brat doing here talking to a woman like me?"

His face started to beam.

Finally he had met a woman who didn't gravel at his wealth and kiss up to him. This was a whole different type of female. He was loving very bit of the malevolence that was coming from those crimson stained lips of hers. Every shade of red was mixed into her lips.

"I can see that you think a lot about the judgements you feel?"

Selina gave him a scornful glare. "Do you think I give a damn about what people think about me. I couldn't give a damn about their options."

"I doubt you care what anyone thinks of you."

An awkward silence fell between them as they merely watched each other, daring for each others next move. Finally Bruce asked. "Who are you?" He was desiring to know her name.

Why the hell should I tell you?" Selina demanded.

His eyes grew artful. "Ladies first." He coaxed. "If you are a lady?"

"What is that supposed to mean?" She hissed.

Bruce was chaffing, showing off his charm. He found it amusing teasing her.

Selina stared him down and finally gave into his request. "Selina. My name is Selina ."

"Selina." He tasted her name on his lips. She found she enjoyed to hear his flavorful deep tone. He did not hold out his hand. It didn't matter to her anyways because she would rather slug him than shake his hand. Instead he mustered up the courage and confessed his name. "I'm Bruce."

"Bruce." For some reason she admired that name. It was savory to vibrate down her throat. Good, mysterious and tender. She gazed at him carefully. It suited his darken features and charm very well. "You always come to damsels in distress. Or is this just a rare occasion?"

A hint of an amused smile brushed his sharp features. "I did not know that you were a damsel."

Selina moved closer. "Only when I want to be, good looking." She said with class.

"I never seen a woman like you in this city before."

"Intrigued?"

"Very."

"Well hate to be a downer on this conversation but some of us have work to do." Selina said as a bulky man came marching towards them with a devilish appeal to his manners. He set his sights on Selina's hour glass curves and licked his lips lusty. "Here comes trouble."

"There you are little witch." He growled spitting at Bruce's shoe. "Time to earn your keep."

Bruce looked at the rundown apartment. "Excuse me ," He showed displeasure in his voice. "That's no way to treat a woman."

Selina stepped in front of Bruce. "I can handle this." She replied with calmness in her voice knowing that she would be receiving a backhand from the stranger she was going to reveal herself too in the matter of twenty minutes. The beast of a man touched her hair.

"Soft as silk. Just the way I like it."

Bruce's expression became wrathful. He knew that he had to recuse Selina. He turned and looked at her. "Still want to be a damsel in distress?"

Selina blinked under the mask of cold expectancy .

The stranger moved his hand closer to Selina's breast and was ready to squeeze. "Lets go up stairs."

Bruce immediately responded and stood in front of Selina with his hands formed into fist. "The woman leaves with me."

Selina looked at the twenty-year old billionaire with confusion and a blank expression. She knew that a brawl was coming on. The aggressor pulled out a switchblade and flicked it around - mocking Bruce with a snake like sneer.

"You messed with the wrong person tonight, pretty boy." He was ready to jam the knife into Bruce's shoulder when Selina's hand grabbed his wrist and twisted. The knife dropped to the ground. He snarled and slapped her in the head, knocking her to the ground. "You little dog. I will teach you some manners after I dice pretty boy here."

Bruce looked down at Selina who had blood dripping from the bottom of her lip.

The drunkard punched Bruce hard into the stomach, knocking the wind right out of him. He went down hard.

Bruce picked himself up and dusted his pants off. The bulky man swung again but this time Bruce was quick with his reflexes and caught the fist. He kicked the man's knee out with rage in his eyes. The thug deserved it after what he did to Selina. The man went down to Bruce's feet.

He kicked his shoe into the man's face.

"Let that be a lesson to you, scum."

Selina used her hand and wiped the blood from her lip. She gazed at Bruce with amazement. "Where did you learn to fight like that?"

Bruce held out a hand and helped her back into her boots. "Self-defense classes." "For what the billionaire protection academy?"

He smirked.

Selina leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek and pulled away. He felt saddened that she had to leave so soon.

"See you around."

Bruce nodded feeling the urge to see her again. "Selina," She glanced back.

"For a damsel you sure know how to defend yourself." He said with sincerity in his eyes. "When can I see you again?"

Selina gave him a faint smile. "I'll be roaming the streets, handsome."

Bruce felt unsure with the answer that he heard come from those crimson lips.

"Tomorrow night. Meet me at the Gotham Metropolitan Theater."

Bruce sighed in relief. "What time?" He called out with excitement in his voice.

Selina bashed her lips together and answered with a sweet tone. "Midnight." She walked away. "It was nice to meet you, Bruce. A grin came over her as she noticed his lips form into a smile.

Bruce's attention turned to a pair of headlights of a black Rolls Royce from down the street. He turned back and saw that Selina had disappeared. He was laughing inside waiting to see the expression on Alfred's face.

* * *

The fancy car parked at the curb in front of where the twenty-year old stood. Alfred emerged from the driver's seat with a crossed looked on his wrinkled face. "Master Wayne," "Alfred." "You better have a bloody good reason for dragging me out here."

Bruce shrugged and smiled. "I met a woman tonight. Around my age I think..." Alfred shook his head at his young master's innocent expression as he opened the backseat door.

"Come on then, it's not safe for the prince of Gotham to be wondering the dark dingy streets of this city alone."

Bruce slid his body on the leather seats as the door slammed shut.

Alfred sat into the driver's seat and adjusted the mirror. "Does this female encounter have a name?"

Bruce nodded savoring defining name of the woman he met. "Selina." He breathed with burning eyes beaming to see her beautiful allure. He just had to wait a bit and then he would behold her again. "Selina.


	2. Chapter 2 : Midnight

**Chapter 2 : Midnight**

* * *

Bruce jolted as the benumbing arctic water was dashed into his face - poured out of a water bottle. "What the hell?! He bellowed as his hair became drenched. Water flushed his eyes. He scowled and reeled upwards ready to lunge at Thomas Elliot whom was smirking by the computer desk.

"Time to get up, Wayne." He affirmed chuckling under his breath.

Bruce growled with narrowed eyes at his chuckling friend. "I set an alarm you idiot!"

Thomas scoffed, still smirking annoyingly. "It's just a bit of fun."

Bruce glared wrathfully at him. "You call pouring cold water on your sleeping best friend 'fun'? You can be a real jackass sometimes." He dabbed the sheet over his eyes to rid the dripping water.

"Takes one to know one." Thomas winked.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Bruce growled arising from the bed.

"I can be a jackass but at least I don't look like one." He placed his hands on his ears with his fingers pointed up and started making braying donkey sounds.

Bruce dithered at the appalling comment. He reacted by grabbing his soaked pillow and whipping it at Thomas' simper face in retaliation. Thomas threw the pillow to the floor and arose from his chair.

"You want to go a few rounds, rich boy?" He dared. "I promise that I'll go easy on you."

"Good that makes one of us, Ellie." Bruce replied using the nickname that he gave Thomas when they were six years old. He smirked coyly as he he positioned his body into a fighting stance. Thomas reached out a hand and grabbed Bruce from behind, twisting his body. Bruce felt the pressure in his muscle tendon.

"Give up, Brucie?" The feverish red head coaxed. " Had enough?"

"Get your hand off of my arm," Bruce warned in a deadly voice.

"Ooh... I'm real scared. What's the prince of Gotham going to do?"

This." Bruce jabbed an elbow in his friends gut and pushed him to the edge of the bed. He lunged at him ready to jam his fist right into Thomas' skull but he controlled his rage and pulled away.

Thomas turned his gaze at Bruce with an impressed look. "You're improving. Let's say best three out of five?"

The twenty-year old billionaire nodded. "I didn't mean to get riled up like that Thomas, its hard to control my anger these days." He narrowed his intense gaze to the carpet floor. "I've been feeling animosity for a long time."

Thomas agreed as he sat at the edge of the bed. "I know. You have to learn to control that temper of yours. Like I said people around here are starting to wonder about you. Even Clair."

Bruce shot him a stunned look as he leaned against the wall. "Clair? She asks about me?"

"A lot. In some ways she feels sorry for you."

Bruce held resentment to that comment. "Tell her don't bother. I'm fine. Besides... I met someone."

Thomas raised his eyebrows with curious surprise. "Name?" He asked sounding inquisitive. "Does this encounter have a name?"

Bruce nodded as his breath released the name that tasted on his clement lips. "Selina."

"How old?"

The billionaire crossed his arms."Old enough." He replied sensing that his friend was too curious towards Selina.

"Hair color?" Bruce shrugged at his persistent questions. "Brunette with streaks of ginger." He muttered.

Thomas smirked appreciatively. "Sounds delightful. When will you be seeing her again?"

Bruce glared hard at him. "None of your business, Tommy. I don't want you to even go near her." He exhaled deeply.

Thomas gave a bewildered expression that soon turned amused. "Aren't you protective..."

Bruce grabbed his black sweater and pulled it over his slender body that still showed bits of baby fat on his waist from not really working out and from eating junk food during the late nights while studying for mid-semester exams. That was the reason why he wore thick sweaters to hide his stomach which he was ashamed of having. He knew it was his fault for indulging too much on Sour Patch candies, M'M'S and bags of chips.

He had to admit he was getting compacted around the waist. He didn't like feeling insecure about himself anymore than the pity or sympathy he received.

Thomas pointed at his friends stomach. "Maybe I should sign you up for a work routine?"

"No thanks. That's just a waste of time. Besides I'm starting to cut back on my midnight snacking. You should talk with all the beer you drink on the weekends." He retorted with a devilish smirk.

Thomas looked at his watch. "Well come on, unless you want to be late for another class?"

Bruce rolled his eyes. "Late is becoming a trait of mine. You go on ahead. I'll catch up when I can."

Thomas grabbed his text books and gave his roommate a nod. "We're still on for fencing practice at three?"

"Last time I checked." Bruce answered, sitting in the computer chair and typing on the keyboard his thesis statement for English about the year of tragedy and comedy during the years of the Middle English period of literature. His fingers tips touched the keys as his butterscotch eyes gazed at the screen.

Thomas left the dorm and closed the door behind.

* * *

The next few hours, Bruce manged to talk with his childhood friend Rachel Dawes on phone, but to him she sounded so distant and uninterested in the words that came from his lips as he mentioned about his encounter with Selina. He needed to get some advice on how to improve his conversations with the alluring brunette that made his heart flutter inside his chest.

I'm so happy for you, Bruce." Rachel said, "I never thought that it could be even possible for you - after all you've been through in the past years."

"Possible?" Bruce replied, sitting on his bed snacking on a package of candy. The flavors were sour and sweet at the same time. "What is that suppose to mean, Rachel?" He had a sinking feeling that Thomas and she were conversing behind his back.

"You've been so dead to us, Bruce." Rachel answered with a teary voice. "Cold and insensitive to the world around you."

"Hey I never asked for this life, Rachel Dawes. It chose me." His words were becoming bitter.

"Then if this woman is your one chance to living a normal life, I suggest you take it." She paused. "Have a good day, Bruce." She said callously then hung up quickly.

He lowered the phone and placed it on the computer desk. He stood straight on his feet, feeling flushed and weak from too much sugar he consumed in the last few hours. Thomas entered wearing a sweatshirt.

Bruce raised an eyebrow at his appearance. "I thought we had a fencing session, this afternoon?"

Thomas shook his head. "I'm not in the mood for sword play. How about..." He looked at the wrappers in the trash can. "Jogging? It would be good. Gets the blood pumping, lungs full of air and plus it relives stress."

"What makes you think that I'm stressed out?"

Thomas scoffed and nodded towards the candy wrappers. "You're eating too unhealthy and soon it'll catch up to you, Bruce."

Bruce gave him dumbfounded look as his eyes narrowed at the collection of candy wrappers. "You worry about yourself. I don't need to be told how to discipline my body." He grumbled.

Thomas looked at his best friend with concern. "Bruce, I'm just worried about what you might become. If you keep all that anger bottled up inside it will destroy your body."

"Since when are you a doctor?" Bruce huffed with a remorseful scowl.

"Rachel is worried for you."

Bruce rubbed his temple. "So you've been talking to her behind my back. I thought we could trust each other. Guess not." He stormed out of the room scuffing any words that his friend gave and marched down the hallway.

* * *

The October sky was dusky with hues of ashen grey. Leaves gathered on the track and light rain was started to pour. Bruce didn't care. It felt good to run alone without rueful backstabbing friends engulfing him with their pitiful stares. He closed his eyes and felt the rushing cold wind whip across his face. And the beat of his heart pumping hard as he pushed himself. His throat was becoming scratchy and throbbing.

He felt free as his mind recalled the moments he had with Selina last night.

"Maybe she is the only friend, I have left - and I barely know her." He thought as he started his next lap. "Maybe after this night things will be different."

* * *

Eleven hours later... After three boring classes of Social studies, English and History then doing a few tiring sets of laps in the indoor pool of the university...

Bruce Wayne stood at the front of the first car of the monorail train - Thomas Wayne's invention that was created to help those who could not receive independence from the Elite that ravaged the downtown part of Gotham with covetousness.

A strong whiff of a tangy odor caught him off guard. His deep-set eyes narrowed to a displaced man sitting hunched in a seat by the window as the other passengers secretly judged him of his well-being.

Bruce felt his back stiffen - centralizing the spectacle of Gotham City rushing pass the orange street lights mounted at every corner, the tiny side streets, the grand avenues and the gleaming tower of Wayne Enterprises that stood mighty tall at the heart of the city.

His future.

The train slowed, the wheels sliding on the tracks, sparks began to fly and then it stopped. Bruce released a sigh as his thoughts collected about his father's legacy. To him it was a just a grim reminder of soon to be future failures. He was not one to be stuck inside a closed in office and sit on his ** all day while looking at stock columns on pie charts and reviewing product inquires. He knew that life would be insignificant towards his well being.

Stepping on the platform, he saw litter piled in the corners and a few Gotham City Police officers standing at the far end of the platform surveying the area.

* * *

Calamity had always been Selina's word of choice when describing the disasters that she witnessed night after night. It was becoming an ill-stricken hobby of her after hour routine in this complex dark city.

She never once experienced the blessing of comfort and good fortune. Just the affliction of the overpowering crossroad choices she made. Her black sleeved sweater covered the marks of her unforgiving past - a scar from her drunken father whom misused her for his own pleasure when he was drowning his lungs with beer.

That smell of harsh yeast still lingered on her flesh.

Her sleek thigh-high boots clicked into the murky puddles as her amber eyes burned at the consuming lust towards disobeying the rules. "Life is such a bitch and so am I." She murmured, slipping her body into a narrow, shadowy part of the alley way.

With haste, she grabbed the rung of the fire escape ladder and pulled herself up quickly, using the leverage of her arms. Her muscles felt like they were gashing through her skin, she exhaled deeply and climbed the metal bars with flames of determination burning heavily in her copper tinged iris'. The shadows concealed her flawless features like a woven mask.

Most people dashed through the alleys. Selina was never in a hurry. She preferred taking her time and experiencing the thrills of the darkness with every fiber.

Using a lock pick that she removed from her leather pant pocket, she crouched down with her back hunched and picked the window lock. Cautiously the window arose and she slipped inside the dense apartment. A rack of clothes were hanging on hooks and dishes were left on the floor with bugs crawling on the plastic.

Her skin began to crawl as she moved to the bedroom and gaped at the unmade bed.

"Poor hygiene at its best," She chuckled dryly. Advancing closer to the dresser, her polished French nails tapped on the wooden surface. She pulled open the drawer and reviewed the items carefully - keeping herself in check on the main prize.

She smiled softly as her hand grasped a paper envelope. Carefully she opened the paper seal and shook the contents into the palm of her hand. Cut diamonds. A girl's best friend and a ticket to live the taste of the spoils of the elite for a few nights. It wasn't much for a big score. Nothing to sustain her for surviving in Gotham. Only enough to satisfy her lust.

Selina placed the diamonds in her pocket, closed the drawer and moved to the window. Her eyes surveyed the bedroom for a quick moment then she bailed - doing a back flip to the ground.

Her heels smacked on a dumpster. Feeling the impact in her knees, she jumped on the ground and walked away from the apartment complex with a sly smirk.

* * *

The brisk chilling October wind nipping at his flesh, Bruce pulled on his black hood and cantered down the misty streets, passing the closed greeting-card shops, jewelry stores and cafes. This was a different way of life that he had never seen before in Gotham. All his senses were more alert and his pulse was calm. Only a few cars passed by as he walked towards the crosswalk. His lungs filled with the bleak air. Never before did he feel more alive.

As he crossed the street, Bruce felt an icy chill run down his spine. He slowed and stopped in front of the entrance to an alley. "This place," Came a growl from the abyss of his darken soul as his butterscotch hazel eyes squinted at the shadows. The smell was dense and silence filled the haunting place where his innocence vanished when two bullets entered two hearts.

A sting was forming in he back of his eyes. The sound of his mother screaming out his father's name was blood pumping into his ears. The gun that belonged to Joe Chill, the person that Gotham Police Commissioner Carl Loeb declared found and locked away in Stonegate with ruthless tyrant Carmine Falcone. To Bruce that wasn't justice. Just glory from the commissioner who was rewarded by the Mayor for his bravery of taking down the crime boss.

There was something disquieting about the Commissioner that didn't appeal to Bruce.

In his analytical mind the twenty-year old gathered his thoughts and the information that he stored. He remembered reading, on the computer in his dorm, a newspaper article about Carl Loeb.

The words were written out as if they were lies. A cover up. Then he recalled seeing a picture of a good cop. One of the few. Jame Gordon. An officer who arrived from the "Windy City." The same man who was there when Bruce thought there was no hope left in this dark hellish world. But Gordon gave him assurance and told me that everything was going to be alright.

"There is nothing out there..." Bruce muttered coldly. "Nothing worth saving.

* * *

Selina looked at her watch. "11:55 PM," She whispered with her heels clicking to the crosswalk.

Making a choice was her only option. She promised to meet the dashing distraught billionaire at midnight. Selina Kyle was never one to keep her promises. She was selfish and cunning when it came to getting what she wanted. Men to her were suckers - fools to have ever crossed her path. She was like a black cat - easy on the eyes, but deadly when cornered.

A soft curve of her lip formed as her mind raced about her encounter from last night. "Dangerous, handsome and rich." She coaxed inside her collective thoughts. "What more can a girl ask for?"

She owed herself the satisfaction of male attention. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness. Faint glows of the street lights became captured in her leather pants. A Gotham Police cruiser passed by - lights were turned off. She stood there frozen and glared at the tinted windows. Her expression became the wrathful scorn of a woman's remorse to the laws of justice. There was a hint of insecurity that swept her brow. A chill of displeasure ached inside her soul.

Innocence that she kept locked inside was becoming exposed.

Without any further thought, Selina looked at the clock tower near City Hall and said a phrase that stuck with ever since the youthful form of her childhood vanished and she was left with no comfort to shelter her. Nothing as a moral purpose to survive.

"I'm adaptable." She breathed making her choice, crossing the street and heading to the direction where fate was leading her.

* * *

Bruce hung his head down, feeling betrayed by his own emotions raging inside him. He felt a little nervy about conversing with Selina. "What should I say?" He thought as recollection of thoughts of her enticing beauty ran rapidly through his mind. His throat was beginning to throb as he tried to choke up the right words to say to her when their eyes met. He had to be indifferent and content. Show no weakness.

Bruce curved his body to the sound of high heels and a warm presence. His faced beam as his butterscotch hazel eyes gazed at the foxy haired woman dressed in a black sweater standing behind him.

"Selina," He released a fresh breath of air that tasted of mint.

"What's wrong handsome, worried that I might have stood you..."

Selina lost her footing. Her body slid to the sidewalk as her back rubbed against the puddles drenching her sweater. She felt a combustion of embarrassment. Fluttering her eyes and cursing, she regained her elegant composure and flipped her hair off her shoulder.

"Selina?" He asked, trying to keep a straight, passive face. "Are... you alright?" He breathed out in a concerned voice.

She stiffened and exhaled with frustration. "Never better." She released a smirk as Bruce stretched out her hand. "No thanks receiving that sort of gesture of human compassion is something that doesn't suit me."

Might I ask why?" He inquired.

Selina shrugged. "I prefer to do things on my own, rich boy."

She forced a weak smile. With proper poise she lifted herself off the ground and wiped down her leather pants. Whipping her hair back, she exhaled a frustrating breath and then matched her luminous eyes into his partial gaze.

"Are you sure, you're OK. You fell down pretty hard." He said dubiously.

"Its alright. I'm a tough girl." She declared forming her hand into a fist. "I take whatever the streets throw at me."

Bruce crossed his arms. "Oh really? Then might I ask why you're grimacing?"

"You would be too if you landed hard your ass." She smiled with innocence. "Don't tell me that the billionaire never falls on his ass?"

"Not lately." Bruce countered. "I always walk looking down at my feet." He blinked with a frozen look. He could not believe that he just said that.

Selina released a chuckled. "Is that the best you got, Bruce Wayne?"

He was trying not to flush as she advanced closer and wiped the wet water on his shoulder. "There now we both have a bit of Gotham on us." She could sense that something was troubling him. She was going to change his cold mood. "So where do you want to go?"

"Anywhere." She scoffed with a teasing grin. "Anywhere. What am I your tour guide?"

"Maybe." He smirked.

"For one thing you look like you need something warm to consume. Hot and favorable to the senses." She spoke in a low cozy tone that was gentle as her eyes stared deeply at his inviting lips.

Bruce was pulsing and aching as he caught a faint whiff of her sweet aroma. It was his instinct to attack her lips but he didn't want to make her think that was all he was interested in her for. Selina already experienced that with strangers. He didn't want to be appeared no different from them.

"What do you have in mind?"

Selina shook her head playfully, eyes dazzling. "You'll see." She bolted away from him. "Catch me if you can, handsome." She dared as he raced down the sidewalk, feet sloshing in the puddles.

* * *

She stopped in front of a café and leaned her back on the iron chair. Bruce arrived in her sights, pacing his breath. "What took you?" Selina questioned.

"Why'd you do that for, Selina?" He moved over catching his breath.

'm a woman who likes to enjoy the thrill of a chase." She replied as her voice became cold. "I've been running on these sidewalks all my life. Sometimes you find yourself in the life that I've been caught up in hellish situations." She lifted her chin and looked up at Bruce with daring eyes. "Then you find yourself the prey instead of the predator."

He looked at her remorsefully. "Selina-,"

"Enough with the drama," She blared. "Let's enjoy this evening." She moved to the entrance doors of a coffee shop and stepped inside. Bruce stood their watching her behind the glass, paying for two cups of something hot. He could see the steam rising.

"That's really thoughtful, Wayne." He cursed. "Making her pay, meanwhile you are a billionaire. A cheap billionaire."

Selina emerged out of the doors cautiously holding the cups. "Here you are ," She handed him the cup.

"You didn't have to, Selina I could of paid for that."

"Drop it, rich boy." Selina snapped. "This was my treat and a gesture for saving my life last night."

"I thought saying thank-you didn't suit you?"

"For you, I'll make an exception."

Bruce nodded and took a sip.

"Careful..."

It was too late, the smoldering hot chocolate had numbed his tongue. He grimaced looking at her.

"I tried to warn you." Selina coaxed.

Bruce was stubborn to admit it. He opened his mouth and all that came out was a raspy voice that sounded like gravel. "Thanks," He spoke with a deep voice. Selina bit her tongue and tried not to laugh.

He half-rolled his eyes. "What?"

"Nothing."

Her countenance changed into a much more vinegar tone as her amber copper eyes scrutinized a mother and daughter entering the backseat of a cab as they walked down the sidewalk.

he was a young woman who cherished details about comforts that life without regrets offered. She envied that family.

In a small way, she breathed an involuntarily gasp. Wanting to protest her past afflictions, instead she remained calm and set her focus back on the young, sharp featured man who stood beside her.

Bruce could sense that she was holding something back. He knew that this was going to be challenge. To unlock the enigma of this woman.

"Something on your mind?" He canvassed.

"Do you ever wish that you could go back and change the past?" She asked with displeasure in her smooth dark voice. "To change the sins that you witnessed?"

"More than anything," He simply replied darkly as his mouth slightly opened and his voice was back into its rich partial tone that was smooth and alluring to her ears.

She unconsciously slid her body closer to him, feeling the comfort of his body temperature pulsating, making her become calorific.

"Why bring this subject up, Selina?" He was grasping the words inside, feeling unprepared for her answer.

"My life is different, Bruce. Probably a lot different from the cheerleaders at your school and the attractive book worms that sit in the library waiting for the right jerk to make her innocence turn into sin. Most women become devils that love to tempt the common sucker with illusions." She was releasing fumed malice.

"You're pretty much the only one that got to me to take of this mask tonight. You're different from most men. I can't explain it Bruce. I guess both of us are just suckers in this hellish city waiting for the escape route."

He was surprised by the words that flowed from her crimson lips. "You're right, Selina. I am looking for an escape from my past. "

"You do know that you're in a danger zone hanging with me."

He shrugged. "I don't mind taking a few risks."

"Depends on the value of the risk you're willing to take." She replied in a surly voice.

Bruce placed the cup on the ledge. He could see distress in her eyes. Wounds that lingered and forgiveness. She was a lot like he was - cold and weary. He became entranced with her beauty. The crimson lips that were mixed with colors of rose petals and blood from human flesh.

That's all they were. Flesh and blood.

Spasms were beginning to rattle inside his chest.

Vexation formed as he thought about all those creeps who misused her with guilty sinful pleasure.

Selina kept her guard up as her eyes challenged his deep gaze.

Without any hesitation, or breaking down from making a choice that could change his outlook of the human heart. Bruce crashed his lips on hers. They captured deeper sucking away any retort that she had planned. His powerful grip grasped her slender waist as she curled back her head feeling the empowerment of his kiss. There was such intensity from his soft lips.

Selina pulled away looking breathless. "Whoa. You're just full of surprises."

His mouth coaxed her lips again.

She placed her hand on his chest. "Sorry handsome... this is a school night for you."

Bruce released his grasp and gave her back the freedom. "When can I see you?" He asked with excitement in his voice as if he were thirsty, she was began to walk away.

With a quick turnaround Selina yelled out. "Don't worry. I'll find you."

Just like that she vanished into the shadows of the night.


	3. Chapter 3 : Surprise on Campus

**Chapter 3 : Surprise on Campus  
**

* * *

The next morning, the cold breath of early winter formed onto the window panes of the dorm room. Bruce managed to sleep for at least three hours after his exciting evening with Selina.

The taste of her ambrosial crimson lips still lingered onto his flesh.

With a brisk move, he pulled the covers off and placed his bare feet on the carpet. He grabbed the nearest clean dress shirt and evergreen wool sweater that was in his drawer, and pulled it over his body. Bangs formed around his left brow, tipping at the edge of his almond shaped eyes as his lips clasped together creating a stretched out m, showing indents at the corners.

Thomas Elliot entered the room with a paper bag in his hands. His sea colored eyes gazed at the twenty-year old heir to Wayne Enterprises. His mouth produced a sly smirk as he remained close-minded to his friend's random humming. A rhythm with a catchy beat.

"You seem chirpy today, Wayne?" He quickly stated. "How was your night with Selina Kyle?" He could sense that Bruce was in high spirits with a gleeful expression on his lips that almost molded into a smirk.

"It was great," the young billionaire said, sounding so excited, "I have never met a woman like Selina before in my life."

His dazzling butterscotch hazel eyes were bright.

"I even had a chance too..."

"A chance at what," Thomas asked, having a sinking feeling that he already knew the answer.

Bruce gave a beaming smile, showing his jagged pointed canines. "To kiss her," he confessed. "It was the most wonderful experience I have ever felt before," His eyes fell as recollected thoughts entered his mind about his parents' murder. "For a moment the pain seemed to dim."

Thomas listened to the softness of Bruce's voice. He handed his friend the paper bag.

"What's this?" Bruce asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Breakfast. Knowing you, you planned to skip."

Bruce released a sigh. For months Thomas had been trying to get him to eat healthier. Clearly he was forcing it but it never seemed to work out well because of the stubbornness that Bruce carried. "Thomas, we already talk about this..." There was an edge of anger in his voice. "I don't need any help," he started. "I know how to take care of my body."

"Yeah, it sure shows." Thomas pointed to Bruce's stomach.

Bruce folded his arms, feeling insecure.

"Maybe instead of a jackass I should be calling you a..."

Bruce's jaw clasped. "Don't say it." He warned.

"Whatever you say..." Thomas advanced closer and tapped Bruce's stomach lightly, making snorting sounds. He loved getting a rise out of his childhood friend. It made him believe that if Bruce focused his emotions on taking him down in a friendly affray, maybe the abyssal pain would dissolve for the few moments in his friend's life.

Thomas laughed. He found it amusing - teasing Bruce. He had his cheeks puffed out.

"Hey , I have a new name that the elite of Gotham could call you."

Bruce pursed his lips , trying to control the anger. "What?" He growled.

"Bruce Wayne, the human piggy bank of Gotham."

"Oh that's it!"

Bruce lunged forth at Thomas, trying to pin him down. Thomas dodged and removed a small Hersey bar and stuffed it into Bruce's mouth when the billionaire was positioned to strike.

"Just think all you need is, hmm... an apple." He noted.

Bruce removed the candy bar from his mouth and gritted his teeth.

Thomas gestured his hands. "Come on Brucie, show me what you're made of."

"Another retort, Ellie?" Bruce snarled.

"I've got plenty to spare." Thomas replied as he kicked Bruce, making him trip to the floor, landing on his back. He grabbed the billionaire's wrists and began to produce spit.

"What the hell are you doing?" Bruce demanded.

Thomas had him pinned to floor, a line of spit was dripping down to the billionaire's face. He tried to push him off. "Oh, no!" Bruce yelled as he felt the saliva touch his cheek. "How childish can you get?" He pushed Thomas off and swiped the drool off his cheek.

"Come on, Brucie, where's your sense of fun." Thomas laughed, lifting himself up with his hands. He slugged Bruce in the shoulder who was feverishly red in the face.

"Don't you have a lecture to get to?" Bruce beamed a smirk.

Thomas gave a dumbfounded look and glanced at the alarm clock. "Crap." He cursed as he grabbed his book bag resting on the floor and bolted out of the room.

"Peace at last." The twenty-year old fell back into the covers and breathed deeply.

* * *

Selina Kyle returned home. A makeshift apartment memoir filled with urban decay of lifestyles and grime that covered the brick tinged walls. She had been window shopping and taking in the morning with a brisk attentive, open minded concept about her dreams and desires.

She unlocked the door to find Ginger, a twenty-seven year old waitress that took her in when she was fourteen-years old. Ginger had shown her the ropes towards surviving on the narrow streets and the hard bitten lifestyles of the average woman in Gotham City.

"Hey, kitten," she greeted as she poured a hot coffee into a mug. "How was your morning?"

"Great," she lied, uncertain about what kind of answer to give her. Realizing that in Gotham City, having a great morning was a dream come true with the way she lived. It was all about survival. She had to take what she needed to survive this life. Feeling self-condemning thoughts that she dealt with every time her hands grasped the diamond displays and computer hardware she stole. There was no choice in the matter. Life was cruel and the intentions that her pitiful soul believed she had under control were slowly slipping away.

"Why are you acting so quiet, you're usually a lot more talkative?" Ginger implied.

Inside Selina's darkened hues of milk chocolate amber eyes was a hidden realm of forgotten childhood dreams that were laid to waste. "I guess, I'm just not in the mood."

Ginger released a faint sigh as she took a seat across from the counter where Selina rested her body against. "You're holding something back, I know that expression, Selina."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Ginge." That was the nickname that she called her friend. The truth was she had self-doubt about the choices she made in the past and how it could ruin her life. Spending a few months in a Juvenile prison, where she did time for street theft and vandalism. Her criminal record was getting thicker each time she was caught.

One thing that Selina discovered was that human kind always learned from their mistakes. She lived by her own code of ethics.

'Never steal something you cannot out run.'

She remembered what a few correction officers stated when she was locked behind steel bars, hair in a tight pony tail and no makeup to keep her self image glamorous.

{Flashback}

_Fourteen year old Selina Kyle stood in her crowded cell, wearing an orange jumpsuit with the number of a code printed on her left side. Her glaring cold eyes stared into the face of her 'bull dog' of an officer threatening her with cold remarks._

_ "You're always going to be a little stray kitten. Never welcomed into any homes. Your body will be found in the gutter, Selina Kyle."_

_ Selina felt her throat burning. Fury was stricken from her frail body. She shot an intense cat-like glare to the officer._

_ "Sometimes strays do find homes." She snapped._

_ The officer laughed. "Not you're kind."_

{End of flashback}

Selina glanced at the ram-sacked apartment. This wasn't home to her. This was another place of refuge.

"Come on, Selina. You can tell me."

The teenager fluttered her eyes. "I guess my past sins have come back to haunt me."

Ginger looked at her with kindly eyes. "You have nothing to be ashamed about, kitten. You did what you had to do in order to survive. That takes real guts."

"Guts?" She echoed a small frown, thinking about Bruce Wayne. When his face entered her mind, all the past garbage she kept hidden in the vault of her body faded. He made her feel worthwhile again. The only man that treated her like a human being and not an item to be broken or misused from the wrong reasons.

"I met someone." Selina said in a blissful tone, gathering thoughts. Bruce Wayne the heir to Wayne Tower - one of the tallest buildings in the city. She also did research. Bruce's family built the monorail 'sky train' that she would use frequently with the other regular passengers.

"Not another mark?" Ginger countered.

Selina shook her head. "No someone different. Well OK, he's a part of the upper-class of the city. Rich blood flows through his veins."

Ginger looked curious. "Name?"

"You wouldn't believe me, if I told you."

"Try me." Ginger dared, taking another sip of coffee. "Or is he so..."

"Bruce Wayne." Selina blared. "I met the spoiled prince of Gotham city."

Ginger almost choked on her coffee. "You mean Bruce Wayne, as in the heir to the Wayne family fortune? One of the richest young man in the entire city?"

Selina shrugged. "It no big deal, Ginge. Take it easy."

"Bruce Wayne is different alright. Some say he has mental problems. Self-destructive and a very depressed young man."

"Oh come off it. He seemed to be in a healthy state with me."

Her eyes squinted, looking at the flushed teen. "That billionaire swine is bad news."

Selina's jaw tensed. "You don't know him. He is anything but a pig that we're used to dealing with." Her words became colder and her body cringed. "Maybe for once in my life I can save a real friend."

"And what am I, to you?" Ginger protested.

"More like a sister than a friend." Selina moved to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water.

"My advice is stay away from Bruce Wayne."

"Thanks for the warning." She scoffed and stormed out of the door.

There was so much detail with the young billionaire that was worth uncracking if given the right motivation.

"Bruce Wayne, is all but uncrackable." She breathed as her crimson blades rubbed themselves. The warmth of his lips had never left her cold body.

She found him to be charming, daring and mysterious. Like a shadow that remained hidden within the walls of her own heart. Things were growing too complex. Maybe he could fill her in on the details of his past.

Shifting her gaze to the stairwell, Selina started to walk down the steps. She shook her head and opened her lips wide enough for a simple sentence to break through. "Great, I'm becoming adaptable to Bruce Wayne."

She immediately paced herself down to the end of the steps where a side door was closing and shutting as the wind banged the metal frame. She walked outside. Light snow flakes were drifting all around, forming on the frozen cement. She turned her head and looked for the direction of the subway station.

With her mind made up, she acted with no hesitation and began to walk the streets with a surprising intention to see Bruce on campus this afternoon.

* * *

Organization structure and ethics lecture was not worth a full 45 minutes of sitting in a desk listening to the balding short English professor ramble on about the different inputs and the outputs of the environment and the internal systems of the organization with a group of hard working people coming together to share achievement in one common goal.

Bruce wrote in his binder the notes that he could make out from the fading words on the overhead screen. He squinted, his eyes trying to see the clear sentence. The words were faded out.

"Great," He muttered under his breath, jotting the notes in point form.

His eyes were getting heavy. Finally his hand released the pen and his chin fell to his chest. Within moments he was unresponsive to the professor's voice and the voices of students whispering phone numbers and talking about their evening plans.

He drifted into a dream.

_ The smell of Gotham entered through his nostrils as he breathed the acid taste of filth that almost made him produce unwanted vile. Everything around him was blurry and closing in. The brick walls of the alley that formed around him._

_ Bullet casings laid under his shoes as he lifted his head and saw a little boy standing alone in the alley way. Tears streaming down his round cheeks. Eyes were wide and blood shot._

_ Bruce advanced closer, wanting to shelter him with a gentle embrace. A stranger appeared from the shadows with a pistol - the same as Joe Chill's murder weapon - steady in his hands. Dark lifeless eyes looked at the body and a sneer formed._

_ "Do you miss Mommy and Daddy?" The stranger offered, aiming his gun at the child's head. "Close your eyes and count to three. Soon you will see them again."_

_ At that moment, something rose up into Bruce. He lunged at the gunman and rammed a fist into the man's face, whipping the gun out of his hand. The stranger disappeared as a bat flew above him screeching with its wings fluttering._

_ The child screamed in fear._

_ Bruce looked up at the bat that was swooping down, attacking him._

_ "No!"_

Thomas Elliot sat a few seats back with an attractive bubbly blonde named Sonya who was eying the slumbering billionaire. Thomas nudged her arm. "Watch this.." He said, ripping a piece of paper from his note book and crumbling it into a ball.

"Thomas, what are you doing. Don't act that a fool." Sonya chided him.

"Just watch. Consider this a lesson in waking up the unfocused Bruce Wayne." His eyes looked directly at the head of Bruce's thick hair and he threw the ball into the air at rapid speed. The paper ball landed on Bruce's head, messing with his hair.

Bruce jolted, fully alert and flushed. He listened to the sound of Thomas' laughing. Turning his head, Bruce looked at the redheaded clown and shot him a death look.

Thomas formed his lips into a frown and then he smiled devilishly. "Lighten up, Brucie."

Bruce took a deep breath and whispered silently. "Fear."

* * *

On the grounds of Princeton's campus near the clock tower, Thomas Elliot paused in his words as his eyes gazed at the alluring ginger haired brunette sitting on the bench. Legs of leather gleamed in the mixtures of ashen greys of the November sky. He was impressed, in both her beauty and elegance as he leisurely made his way closer.

"Hello there, gorgeous." He said, eying her lustily.

Strands of her hair were straight at the top but flowing with curled locks at the bottom to give her style a bit more body. She wore only a hint of makeup, blush on her cheek bone, grey eyeshadow on her lips and a crimson shade lipstick.

She wore a black long sleeve turtle neck sweater covering her cream moon skin with only a locket showed around her neck.

"Who are you waiting for?" He boldly asked, standing only a few feet way from her boots.

Selina cocked her head, studied him with sharp eyes and smirked while her teeth bit one nail. Playfully she fluttered her eyes. "Definitely not you, red." She replied with a bright smile. She read him like a book. He was a jerk. Plain and simple. All he needed was a name tag.

"Come on, that's on very nice."

She rested her cupped cheek her on her chin. "You didn't ask nicely," Her eyes squinted at him with a sly grin.

"Could I try again."

"If you insist."

"Alright, could you please tell me who you are waiting for? I know that you're not known on campus. Although I wish you were."

Selina glanced behind him and saw a cast-down billionaire walking with his head down and shoulders hung as a book bag smacked his hip. "Bruce Wayne," Her voice answered in a direct manner.

Thomas almost choked. "Bruce?" His eyes enlarged. "Wait..." He could not believe it, Bruce wasn't making this alluring fantasy up. She was real. "You're that girl he was boasting about... Selina Kyle?"

"The one and only." She replied, looking over Thomas' shoulder as Bruce was drawing closer.

Inside Bruce was experiencing powerful fluttering in his chest. He looked... excited and slightly nervous when he saw her face. Instantly his expression turned into a darkened scowl when he noticed Thomas standing in front of Selina. He halted, then continued calmly to the bench trying so hard not to attract attention as a group of students stared at him, muttering under their breaths.

"Selina," His breath hitched silently, clamor or sweat was forming on his deep set brow.

The eighteen year old brunette opened her lips. "Surprised to see me, handsome?"

He manged to form a weak smile. "Very," That was his answer. "How did you get here? Gotham is..."

"I took the train." She arose from the bench, passing the entranced Thomas Elliot, heels clicking on the stone walkway. "I wanted to surprise you. Besides you looked you glum walking on campus."

Thomas interrupted. "Get used to it, Selina."

"Well maybe I can change that..." She pulled herself closer and placed her hand on Bruce's chest. Everyone around them that ridiculed Bruce with gossip was stricken speechless as the attractive young woman drew her full attention to the billionaire prince.

Bruce gulped down as Thomas glared at him with jealous eyes.

"So what adventures would you like to have this evening," Selina asked, eyes burning and lips craving for some action away from the school grounds. "Just you and me."

Bruce studied her carefully, and sighed. "I can't. I have a ton of studying to do. Mid-term."

Selina rolled her eyes. "Let's say we dump the books and go somewhere fun." She enticed.

Thomas moved closer. "I would gladly take your place, Bruce."

Bruce glared intensely. "No. I'll catch up on studying later." He handed Thomas his book bag. "The night will still be young." He smiled.

Suddenly with impulse, Selina took his hand. He looked down and squeezed gently. Feeling the warmth of humanity enter his hardened shell.

"Let's get a move on."

He smiled, listening to the sound of her stomach rumbling. "Hungry?"

Selina felt embarrassed. "A little." She breathed.

"A little. That sounded like a lot, Selina." He looked into her eyes. "Come on. I know a small coffee shop not far from here. This time I am buying."

Selina puzzled her emotions, looking down at their hands, fingers entwined around his. Her lips did a shushing motion trying to clear the lump in her throat. Teenage hormones were taking over. She ignored the inner demons that surged her memory and the indescribable feeling of security.

"You're buying?" She lifted a brow.

"Yeah, unless you have a better place in mind?"

"I might. Depends if you can keep up."

"I..."

"Well come on then. Time is wasting." She pulled him away from the crowd.

Thomas stood there watching his childhood friend run off with Selina Kyle. The backbiting green monster of jealousy was taking over as his eyes focused on the couple walking further away.

"What does she see in him?"

* * *

Inside the car of the elevated train, Bruce watched the glory of Gotham from the window as Selina rested her back against the metal pole beside him.

"My father, built this train." He continued. "He said that Gotham had been good to our family. It was his gesture to repay the city. To give something back. Invested in cheaper public transportation to those less fortunate."

Selina scoffed at that word. "Less fortunate. That's not the word for explaining the urban decay that reeks this city," She paused, looking out the window. "Once you see the ugly side of life you will wish that you hadn't."

The monorail train turned inward into the central station of Wayne Tower.

Bruce looked at her deeply, trying to unmask her emotions. Instead he thought that he would be risking everything. In time she would take off the mask and open up to him. Tonight they would share a meal together and ask questions about their life styles.

Selina slid her body through the crowd. "Follow me," She said, sliding out the doors. Bruce trailed behind her.

They walked down the grated steps, passing the average Gotham citizens. Selina halted her tracks as she stood and glanced at small girl standing in the cold, fending for a decent meal.

"Selina?" Bruce called out as the determined brunette marched over to the girl and pulled out a few dollar bills from her pant pocket. She handed it to the child.

"Here kid," She stated. "Don't spend all at once."

The girl nodded in gratitude and scampered off.

Selina stood there motionless for a full minute as Bruce paced himself beside her.

"That's the ugly side of life, Bruce." She pointed out. "Take a good look at the decaying innocence that this city scoffs at." Her features grew icy cold. "I don't care if people judge me. I could careless about their remarks when I throw money away to those who need to survive."

Bruce grasped her shoulder. "You're a good person, Selina Kyle."

"Only when I want to be."

Bruce shook his head. "Still hungry?"

"I guess. The joint is not far. A few blocks away."

He took her hand and they headed across the street, observing their surroundings and trying to great a better understanding on the character of the city.

Gotham was a place that defined the people. There was elegance from the sky rises and towers, rich fifth avenue bistros and shops. As the sky grew dimmer and the twilight hues of colors faded into a mixture of clouds reflecting the orange tinge glow of the street lights, Bruce was starting to see the night life of the city.

Dark alleys, rooftops with air vents and apartment buildings with clothes lines hanging from every direction. In some way it made him feel uneasy as he walked near the alleys. Fluttering images of bats entered his mind, the sound of Joe Chill's gun banged into his drums.

Selina could feel his grip tightening. "Bruce are you alright?"

"Um... I'm fine."

Selina stopped him and took a deep look at his quivering lips. "Mind telling me what's going on?"

"Not really." His deepest fears and horrific nightmares were coming back. Selina turned her head and looked at a small pizza joint. "We're here." She announced, tilting her head to the sign that read 'Jo's Pizza.'

"Pizza?" Bruce cocked an eyebrow. "I thought you would want something richer and expensive."

"Pizza is rich with sauce and this is best place on the block." She dragged him into the front doors and pulled him inside. An Italian man, late fifties was at the counter covered in flour.

"Hey, Selina Kyle!" He blared with his New Yorker accent. "How you doing?"

"Fine, Jo," She replied. "I need you to set us up with the usual - no onions."

Jo looked at Bruce. "Who's your date?"

"A campus city boy, that needs a little yest in his life."

"Take a seat. Pizza will be ready in ten minutes. Anything to drink?"

"Two Cokes." Selina requested. She sat in the booth as Bruce silently slid onto the red leather cushion. "Just slide your butt in there, handsome."

He dusted off the crumbs. "So how do you know this place?"

"Oh I come here all the time. Jo is a good friend of the person I live with."

"You never mentioned that you were rooming with someone?" Bruce questioned.

Selina shrugged her shoulders. "Ginger, is sort of like my guardian. She took me in when I was young." She explained. "Ginger used to work with Jo's sister Rosy as a waitress in a local bar at the East End until Carmine Falcone took over and made it into his territory. After that Ginge became a part time waitress at a night club. Tips are not that great but we get by with what we need."

"Its important to have good friends in your life. Alfred is really the only one I can confide in. He listens."

"Alfred?"

"My butler. Been with me ever since I was born."

"Butler?" She exclaimed, smacking her lips together. "You really are the prince of Gotham."

"Well, Thomas has a name for the public to call me."

Selina leaned forward, placing her elbows on the table, her chin rested on the surface of her hands. "That would be?"

Bruce gave a scornful expression. "Bruce Wayne - the human piggy bank."

She was trying not to laugh. "I don't see the point of that name." She answered, looking at his rounded cheeks that showed a bit of razor edge to the bone underneath. "What is it with people calling men, pigs? Mind you some men that I have met in the past are real pigs and devour anything that is thrown at them. You're not anything like those jerks."

"I'm not... you don't know that , Selina."

"I can read people like a book. Thomas Elliot is a sneaky weasel. Sorry to say. He looks like he's hiding something - I would watch for him. And you..." She turned her focused eyes into the hues of ginger and evergreen. "Your story involves deep depression. You try to hide those feelings but sometimes you can't. What I am seeing right now is the real Bruce Wayne. Not this gossip column in the newsstands edging on about your daily fortunate."

Bruce was reaching a clear understanding with her. "Alright, my turn. I see a woman that is full of potential in her life. Mind you, she is stubborn but there is something more to her that can only be cracked when she gives you the key."

She felt her bleeding heart racing through her body. A jolt of acceptance.

"Bruce, I..."

The scent of oven baked pizza entered their presence as Jo placed the deep dish ensemble of meats and vegetables in front of them. He handed Bruce a can of Coke and Selina. "Enjoy, you two."

Selina nodded a thankful gesture and lifted up a piece. "Well go on, take a risk. I promise you won't regret it."

Bruce lifted a large piece. The cheese was dripping down as he bit into the steamy dough and indulged. A string of cheese was caught at the corner of his mouth.

Selina smirked.

"What?" He asked.

She reached her hand and pulled the cheese off his lips. "You really haven't experienced pizza all that well?"

"Not really. Alfred only cooks home cooked meals for the TV shows he watches. I haven't had pizza in such a long time. Thank you."

"What's to thank, we're both hungry."

Bruce felt affection. "Selina, can I ask you something personal?"

"We hardly know each other, but ask away?"

"When I kissed you, was it too fast..."

"Bruce there are many types of kisses that a man and woman share. Some are a bit harsh and others worthwhile to subdue ourselves to a dream that we wish we could never awake from."

He looked lost.

"Here, consider this a tester." She leaned forward, until their lips met dead on and pushed herself into him. They clashed into a heated kiss feeling jolts of energy, tenderness and friction.

She pulled away, leaving him breathless and stunned, mouth opened.

"Now you try." She challenged.

He cleared his throat and leaned his head, crashing his lips warmly onto hers, tasting the sweetness that she offered. The sensation of power and human comfort that his sullen soul yearned for. Finally he unlocked, brazing her lips.

"So now you get the idea? A kiss can be in many forms. But it can also be deadly."

Bruce swallowed his breath, ready to attack her crimson flesh again but instead he backed down knowing that he had to be slow and show no desperation.

They sat in companionable chatter, making small talk as they ate and discussed their friends, likes and dislikes. A half-hour passed when Bruce looked out the window. The murky streets were creating shadows. He pulled out his wallet and placed the money he owed on the table.

"I have to go, Selina. I have to return to my studies." He stood up and walked to her side. His lips gently touched her cheek. "Can I see you tomorrow?" He asked.

"I can't make promises, but for you I will make an exception."

He nodded and headed out the door.

Selina sat in the booth, contemplative about the romance she had just shared.

"A promise to keep..." She whispered.


	4. Chapter 4 : Unfriendly Devils

**Chapter 4 : Unfriendly Devils  
**

The next morning, Thomas Elliot managed to talk with twenty-two year old Rachel Dawes at a nearby coffee shop located across from the Gotham Superior Court House. His sea color eyes looked distant and unnerving as Rachel sat there staring into his heated gaze.

"Care to explain why you're giving me the silent treatment?" she asked, sounding so concerned. "You're usually a lot more sociable with me, Thomas."

Thomas shifted his gaze to the window. "How come Wayne always gets the riches in life? He's nothing but a spoiled brat." He spat with colder words.

"You're talking about that new girl of his?" Rachel asked knowingly. "The one you described to over the phone with me... Selina?"

He nodded. "You should see her, Rachel. She's beautiful beyond any measure, and clever minded."

Rachel's face went tight. "So why does it bother you that our childhood friend is finally living his life? Bruce does deserve to be happy; after all he's been through."

"He's just going to push Selina into that abyss of his." Thomas replied in a low snarl.

Rachel shook her head. "You're jealous, Thomas." She answered. "The fact is you can't stand to see Bruce happy... It's unnatural to you." She looked at his hardened expression and had a sinking feeling that the friendship between him and Bruce was going to suffer because of a young woman named Selina Kyle.

Thomas sighed. "All these years - after watching him imprison himself in his home - it's unnatural to see him happy and enjoyable. Call me critical." He was being direct with his concerns but also envious. "Bruce was never meant to live a normal life." His words were becoming more bitter along with the tone of his seething voice. "Not with all the baggage he keeps stored up inside. All the pain that locks him into a pitiful state of being. He should die alone!"

Rachel's jaw dropped. "Thomas Elliot, I can't believe you just said that!" An edge of anger was creeping up her throat. "He's your friend!" She snapped harshly. "You should be happy for him... I'm happy for him."

"Oh come off it, Rachel. I know that you have a crush on Wayne." He scoffed.

She felt her heart clench. This wasn't the conversation that she hoped to endure this morning, not before her midterm exam in her Law and Ethics course. "You have never seen your parents killed in front of your eyes, Thomas. You can't judge him because you don't know how it feels to be haunted by the past. Knowing that your parents' killer is out there. How dare you condemn his life like that. You should be ashamed."

Thomas shook his head. "So tell me does it bother you that Bruce is now involved with a woman other than yourself?" He was being cruel at the moment, wanting to create a collision between their feeling towards Bruce. He wanted Rachel to feel just as bitter about this as himself.

"I..." Rachel was stricken from words. She had deep feelings for her childhood friend ever since she was age ten and Bruce was eight. She was there when he fell into the well and Thomas Wayne climbed down to carry Bruce up in his arms, shaking like a leaf. No matter what she would always be there for him even with the dark days ahead.

"Well I'm waiting?" Thomas urged. Before Rachel could open her mouth and speak the truth, she looked over Thomas' shoulder and saw Bruce Wayne dressed in a more stylish arrangement of clothing. His dark chocolate bangs were resting on the top of his eyebrow showing off his chiseled features on one side and his dazzling ginger green eyes brightened as the sunlight became trapped into his pupils. He looked different, mature and driven.

"Rachel," Bruce said as he strode over to their table. "Fancy meeting you here." He said with a smug grin. Thomas turned around and gave Bruce a scornful glare. "Tommy."

"Likewise, Wayne."

Bruce pulled out a chair and sat down; he rested his hands on the table. "Did you already order?" He quickly asked, glancing at their coffee cups.

"I'm just having a quick coffee, Bruce." Rachel replied. "I have my exam to write in one hour."

"Plenty of time." The young billionaire addressed.

"For what?" Thomas asked, arching up a thick reddish eye brow.

"For breakfast. My treat." He said candidly.

Both friends looked at the twenty year old with bedazzlement. It was clearly confusing to them both seeing Bruce acting this lively and more thoughtful towards his friends.

"OK, Bruce what's really going on?" Thomas inquired. "Did you have a one night stand with Selina last night?"

"Thomas!" Rachel kicked his foot from under the table.

"What!" Bruce was shocked but mostly outraged at his friend's question. "No. Why would you even think that, I'm not that kind of person and neither is Selina." His face went cold and became down cast. He studied his friend Thomas and felt indignant. "If you'll excuse me, it's all of sudden colder in here than it is outside." He pulled his chair out and walked away.

Rachel gave Thomas a death look. "What the Hell was that for?" She gritted her teeth.

Thomas turned his head and gave a scornful glare as Bruce walked out the door.

Rachel pulled out her change and placed it on the table. "Coffee is on me," She arose and walked away.

A few minutes later Rachel emerged from the door and looked at her friend leaning agaisnt the wall. "Thomas is just acting out of a character." She said looking directly at Bruce. "He didn't mean to say those things."

"What if he did, Rachel?" Bruce's voice softened. "He has a right to be angry with me."

"What are you saying, Bruce. That you did do those things with Selina?"

Bruce shook his head. "No. I respect her." He replied. "And care for her just like I care for you." Rachel gazed into his tender eyes.

"I care for you too, Bruce." She walked closer and placed her hand on his cheek. "I know that things have been rough for you. I just want you to be happy. Whatever you decide to become, I will be there for you." She leaned her head and kissed him gently on the cheek.

"Rachel..." He faintly said.

"No Bruce," Rachel answered. "She's a very lucky woman to have a man like you." Her eyes fell. "You're heart defines you." She placed a hand on his chest. "One day you will discover that truth."

Bruce placed his hand on the side of her face and brushed the hair off her forehead. He pressed his warm lips on her forehead. "Thank you, Rachel."

She pulled away and looked at her cell phone. "Now, if you excuse me I have an exam to write. You enjoy the rest of your day, Bruce." She began to make her way down the sidewalk. She turned around. "When will you introduce me to her? I think it would be fitting, after all you did show her off to Thomas?"

Bruce nodded. "Tomorrow night. We'll have dinner together. Just the three of us?"

Rachel returned the nod. "Alright, call me in the morning and we'll make the arrangements."

"Sounds good," Not mistaking the excitement in his voice or eyes. "Good luck on your exams."

She gave him a small smile. "Thanks, Bruce." she ignored her thoughts about the crush she had on him and continued down the street.

* * *

"Jump out the window. Jump out."

Those were the words that she chanted in her mind as she sprang to the window and listened to the sirens wailing. "Two minutes." She calmly said, pulling on her baklava. Her eyes were burning as her gloved hand gripped the window frame and lifted it. Around her neck, hidden underneath a layer of black clothing, was a diamond 23kt necklace. The spoils for the evening. She had to judge the reaction time of the cruisers coming down.

Mapping out the streets and obstacles, Selina exhaled deeply and with feline grace, she bailed from the window. A back flip made her land perfectly on her heels, feeling the impact in her knees unlike the other night.

The sirens were closing in. She quickly pulled out the mask, stuffed it into her pocket and casually walked out of the alley way as the two GCPD cruisers parked at the curb, creating a crowd of nosy lookers flashing cell phone cameras. Selina blended herself within the crowd and acted interested with a serious countenance. The four officers raced inside the apartment.

Shaking her head, Selina released a smirk of satisfaction. Once again she outsmarted the law and didn't leave any clue about her presence in the apartment complex. She was clever and she used her street level intelligence to aide her on the thrill of the hunt.

Selina silently walked away, not hastily as she enjoyed the moment. Feeling the diamonds rub against her neck and the smell of bread baking in the ovens from the local bakery across. It was sheer bliss for a surreal life of a teenager. No spoils of the elite could compare to the passion of Bruce Wayne.

She could give a damn at what the public eye wrote up about her involvement with the billionaire prince. She had kissed him more than the other rich stuck-ups that powdered their noses every two minutes in front of the elegant presence of the wealthy young men from Ivy League.

A cold shiver ran down her spine. She turned around and investigated, keeping herself well guarded. She reacted and moved to the alley way, heels clicking as the sound of footsteps echoed behind, following her every move.

Tonight, she wasn't in the mood to tango with an average street brawler.

"You're a fine looking chicky," a voice announced, blaring in her ear, Selina froze for a moment. "How about you turn around and let me see that pretty face of yours?" He urged.

"Oh, I bet you would," She answered in a sharp tone. The thug turned her to face him, holding out a gun.

"Money! Come on fast!"

Selina acted surprised. "Please." She feigned helplessness. "Why can't you creeps leave me alone?" She backed up to the wall, shuffling in her pockets and hands and held the thug a twenty dollar bill. He reached for the bill, she punched him without any hesitation in the nose and watched him crash to the pavement. She kicked him in the head with the heel of her boot, touching his cheek as he yelped. "Keep the change." She kicked him one last time that shut him up, regaining her poise.

Straightening herself up, she continued down the alley with an understanding that there was uncertainly when living in this city. People got mugged every day of the week, sometimes things would go bad or other times only very few survived without taking dirt naps. Considering that murder was on the rise in the streets, the cops were becoming cowards. Fools to the Falcone Empire. Around here, people just accepted those terms, turning a blind eye as guns went off and screams were heard blocks away.

She easily scoffed at her harsh surroundings. Darkened alleys were filled with broken dreams and broken bodies of unwanted youth who gave up on life by making the wrong choices; going in deep with turning themselves into junkies and street girls. Death was grating at the front door. They wouldn't make it to their late twenties.

"Life is a b!tch." She snarled, feeling her lips curl into a small scowl. She turned and rushed down the alley and crossed the street. With grace, she lunged at the fire escape of her makeshift apartment.

She lifted the window and slipped inside. "Ginge, Ginger," she shouted, walking to the living room area. Something didn't feel right. A cold presence entered the room as she surveyed the area. She glanced at the couch. A tall lanky man was sitting down, and a stranger sipped a bottle of beer and glared at her with hungry eyes.

"Keep your voice down, beautiful!" He growled in a practical threatening voice. "And rip those clothes off your body or else you'll find Ginger's body filled with lead in the morning."

"Stan." Selina gasped. "Always the one to spoil my fun."

"It's not for thrills, Kyle. It's business. You haven't paid up what you owe me."

Selina shook her head. "I don't owe you anything. Get out of my apartment."

He laughed, standing up and advancing closer. "What are you going to do about it?" He flashed a pistol.

She ignored him and darted out the window, down the fire escape, twisting her ankle at the impact of her heels smacking the cement below. Hissing and cursing under her breath, she raced down the narrow alleyway.

Stan looked out her through the window and screamed. "You can't run forever, kitten. I will find you!"

* * *

Selina's eyes snapped opened, she blinked several times trying to regain focus on an grey haired woman shaking her gently. "Who?" she mumbled.

"Easy child," the woman's face was calm. "I'm just making sure than you're alert. You must of taken quite a shock to the system."

Selina shot up and leaned her back agaisnt the brick wall. "Who are you?" she asked clenching her waist.

"Relax child, I'm a doctor." The woman answered. "Doctor Leslie Thompskins."

She sank lower to the payment, wincing as her ankle flared. "I heard about you. You run the old Thomas Wayne clinic , only a few blocks from here near Park Row."

Leslie nodded. "I always make a rounds before I call it a night , in case there are people on the street that need aide health wise."

"Its dangerous for an old gal, like yourself to be walking the streets alone." Selina said pacing her breath as her ankle bone was throbbing .

"Park Row is my home. I'm not a afraid ." Leslie continued. " You're injured aren't you."

"Nothing I can't handle." Selina repeated as she slowly grasped her hand onto the rim of the dumpster and pulled herself up. "I'm a tough girl."

Leslie narrowed her eyes at Selina's right foot. "You're suffering from an ankle sprain. I'll assume that you were either running through an alley fast in those heels or you jumped down from a high position landing on your feet. You need medical attention before the swelling increases." She offered her hand. "Come to my apartment, is not far from here."

Selina looked confused. "Why are you helping me?" she asked, showing a bit of sadness and sighed. For the first time in all these years of living on the streets of Gotham, someone actually cared about her welfare.

"I'm a doctor. It's what I do." Leslie responded. "Now straighten yourself up young lady, and lean on me. You can't walk on your ankle. No pressure."

"I'm fine!" Selina retorted instantly." Thank you for your help. I can take care of myself because I'm just a stray kitten that lives her life on the backdrops of this city." She moved away from the doctor, limping but keeping her poise as she moved down the alley.

Leslie shook her head. "Teenagers," she muttered.

* * *

One hour later...

Selina Kyle was standing underneath the monorail grated stairs. She clenched her jaw as her swollen ankle began to sting. "Damn," she cursed as she moved towards the stairs, hand grasping the railing. She had to escape from this city.

Escape from the ** Stan who controlled most of the East End strip-clubs that Carmine Falcone owned near the Gotham Docks. She didn't care for the employment that he had set up for her in one of the clubs, or standing on the corners selling off her body to a common lustful stranger that was labeled a 'mark' in her terms. Her eyes glanced over at a few homeless men standing near a barrel, keeping warm on this cold November night. She closed her eyes, trying to focus on the one thing that made her feel warmth.

"Bruce," she rasped in a slow tone; tasting his name on her lips. The beat of her heart was slower as the wind billowed across her face.

Selina began to climb, not realizing that when she fainted in the alley an hour before, she bumped her head on the pavement. A cut was seeping on her forehead, blood dripping. Her palm put pressure on the wound. "Blood," she blinked, staring down at her boots.

"Ahhh..." she screamed, suddenly collapsing onto the stairs. She stared at her boot and grimaced as she shook. "What the hell just happened?" She didn't realize that salty tears were forming in her eyes. She scoffed the pain off and rubbed her ankle.

Hands trembling, she was slowly regained strength back in her feet.

"Selina!"

Selina reacted to her name. She slowly turned her head and saw Bruce Wayne standing at the top of the stairs, hands in his pocket and his bangs blowing in the wind. "You're suppose to be studying," she answered.

He looked excited and slightly concerned as he saw her. His eyes narrowed at her leg. Pacing down the stairs, he descended to the middle part and bent his knees. "Selina," he asked, faintly in a worried voice. "Are... you alright?"

"If you're looking for a damsel to rescue, you picked the wrong dame," she replied in her East side accent.

Bruce looked at her cut. "You're bleeding. I have to get you to a doctor."

"No thanks. I'm fine." She quickly answered. "Just an ankle sprain." She forced a weak smile. "Nothing I can't handle."

He arose and helped her back to her feet. "How did you sprain your ankle?"

"I was walking down an alley and I guess I must've slipped." she lied. "What are you doing out this late? It is dangerous for the billionaire prince to be walking the streets alone."

"I wanted to see you again."

"Huh... that's rich." She laughed. "I'm usually the one that makes the surprised appearances."

Bruce smirked. "I need to ask you something?"

Selina dusted off her pants. "Then ask away, handsome?"

"I... um was wondering if I could take you out for dinner tomorrow. My friend Rachel wants to meet with you."

Selina bit her lip. "I'll think about it." She grimaced, feeling the pressure in her ankle.

"My butler will pick you up at eight." He addressed. "Just give me the address?"

"Sorry handsome, but I prefer to do things on my own." She advanced closer, hand touching his chest, ready to strike her lips agaisnt his. Bruce halted and gulped down as she brushed the bangs from his eyes.

He wrapped his hand around her slender back and pressed her closer, feeling the heat of her body rub off into his. She was fast at reacting and pressed against his lips without any thought. It was a challenged kiss. She pulled away leaving him breathless.

"The Gotham Arms Hotel." Bruce muttered, licking his lips. There was a pause as he opened his eyes and saw that she had vanished.

"Selina?"


	5. Chapter 5 : Daylights Conflict

**Chapter 5 : Daylights Conflict  
**

* * *

The sky was a light ashen mixture of pale arctic blue. There was no trace of sunlight beaming from the cloud cover. No shafts of warmth to comfort his frozen body as the sounds of late morning traffic echoed in his ears. Tractor trailers blared their horns on the freeways as sirens wailed from different points of direction.

Bruce Wayne sat on the bleachers, his long black winter breaker covered his body as he huddled - feeling the wind beat down his neck. Snow was lightly falling as one gloved hand grasped a pen. He narrowed down at the blank paper trying to decipher his mind with the right words to place on the faint blue lines.

He began to write.

"Everything is different now. For once I feel the same reassurance that my world did not end when that officer wrapped my father's opera jacket around me and told me that everything was going to be alright. I remember seeing his gentle blue eyes looking into my own - seeing the pain that was forming under the very flesh that covers my bones.

A monster that craves for the satisfaction of cold vengeance.

Alfred and everyone told me on the day when I watched my parents being lowered six feet under that there was nothing out there to fear. That things will get better as time passes and my body matures... They were wrong. There is something out there. Something that dwells in the shadows waiting to strike. Me!

Bruce flipped his blinder shut as he felt a pair of eyes beating directly at him. He turned his gaze to his right side and peered at Clair Boudoise. Her deep chestnut hair was long with a headband tucking away her curly bangs. Sea color blue eyes were bright and she looked jovial as her purple silk scarf billowed in the wind.

"So this is where the famous Bruce Wayne hides during his spares?" she smiled. "I was starting to wonder..." In her hand was a brown paper bag. Bruce stuffed his binder in his book bag and descended down, his running shoes balancing his body as he hoped he wouldn't slip from the ice forming on the steel. His limbs was frozen, feeling him feel numb as he walked.

"I appreciate your concern," he said. "Shouldn't you be in the library studying?" He knew that she was a book worm from a past encounter they shared before. She would lean her back against a shelf and silently eat an apple while reading history.

"Mid-terms are almost done, Bruce." she answered warmly. "Here, I baked these for you. I hope you like chocolate chip?"

He frowned as she handed him the bag. "You didn't have to do this, Clair. I'm not one for sympathy..." his eyes downcast. Thoughts had become broken as he looked at the young woman bashing her eyes lashes and giving a toothy smile. "Thanks for the friendly gesture." The corners of his mouth were quirking up. "You..."

"I want to show you that not everyone is afraid of talking to the billionaire prince of Gotham." Her French accent rattled off the tip of her tongue. "You're an enchanting man to talk to," she said with a bright smile running her fingers through her long hair, twirling the soft curls.

He inwardly rolled his eyes at that comment.

She was ravishing over his looks. What girl wouldn't? Bruce Wayne was a dreamboat - perfect inviting lips, soft spoken rich tone that he released when they parted. His shady gaze with hints of mystery. His eyes were the greatest feature. Deep butterscotch that turned into evergreen hues when the light captured into his pupils.

Clair was desiring him at the moment. She pulled in closer, ready to throw her body weight against his. "Easy to kiss..."

Bruce's mind shot up a warning flag. He backed away. "I should get back to my dorm." He instantly said. "It was nice talking to you, Clair," he added with a vacant grin.

She sighed, kicking the tip of her boot into the snow covered ground. "You're not attracted to me." she muttered, shaking her head out of dismay. "I thought that we might have a chance. Maybe a quick pleasurable night that we could just forget as we move on with our lives. We don't have to date. Or talk afterwards. Just have skin to skin contact under the sheets. Maybe I can take away the pain. Is that what you want, Bruce Wayne?"

He shot up an eyebrow. "What?" His confusion had been stricken by surprise when he heard those words coming from her lips. He knew that Clair was a good girl and he was thinking of the logical reason why she was acting like a French show girl. He scolded at the answers piercing through his thoughts.

"What do you say?" Clair enticed.

Bruce moved in closer and placed the brown bag back into the space between her arm and chest. "No." He pulled away. "I'm not that kind of man. You're a just a girl that is just a stranger waiting to be accepted." His words were harsh. He started to walk further away from her. The only woman that was on his mind was the alluring Selina Kyle.

Clair's eyes became full of fury. A fusion of jealous thoughts came over her. "It's that woman isn't it? The one that surprised you on campus and left with you."

Bruce turned around. "Excuse me?" He was starting to feel an edge in his throat. "That is none of your business."

"What is she like your girlfriend?"

He inhaled and exhaled deeply. Trying to piece everything together. "Who set you up to this?" He questioned. "Or is this just the real Clair?"

Clair paused before her lips parted. "He paid me to seduce you. I didn't want too but my tuition funds. He wants you to be the creep."

"Who?" Bruce growled gritting his teeth.

She swallowed. "I can't say. Bruce. I'm sorry." Tears were sliding down her cheeks. "All he wants is to make you lose Selina Kyle."

Bruce's lips formed into a straight line. "Him?" he breathed. "Thomas paid you to have sex with me so Selina..." He was stricken from words. "Where's the money?"

Her hand dug into her pocket and she pulled out a fifty dollar bill. "This is what Thomas Elliot gave me." She handed him the bill. Bruce ripped the fifty dollar bill into pieces letting in blow into the wind. He pulled out his wallet and handed her a hundred dollar bill.

"For what?" she asked in a shaky tone arching an eyebrow.

"For telling me the truth."

She nodded shortly. "What are you going to do?"

"I think Thomas and I need to have a talk." He scowled and walked away.

* * *

Meanwhile... feeling the throbbing of her ankle. Selina Kyle was ascending the steps of a hallway that led to her Old Town apartment. A cell phone was in her hand as she found her situation inconvenient. A kindling flame was burning within her chest as she moved to the closed door of the apartment.

Deep down she was having second thoughts. Returning to this ram-shack apartment knowing that the sex addict Stan might still be lingering around was a greatly heard horror story from families of his victims. He had beaten women to death with his bare hands or a blow to head with a baseball bat. He was a tasteless scum bag in her eyes.

She swallowed that fear and reconsidered, with scattered thoughts, about bailing down the steps and returning into Bruce Wayne's arms. She loved the feeling of security that he sheltered. Not this slum of her so-called surreal life that was getting her nowhere. Tonight she would see the billionaire again at the Gotham Arms Hotel. She had to pick out a great dress to make a good impression.

Turning the key, her pulse was racing as the door slowly creaked open and she stepped inside. Her twisted ankle was still a killer, she dreaded to look at the swollen foot. Milk chocolate ginger eyes blinked as they were locked onto every corner of the apartment. The make-shift bed that was a green couch full of pillows and comforters, the kitchen counter that had beer bottles empty from Stan's visit. She scoffed and limped to the living room.

There was movement in the bathroom. She reacted, fists ready as she advanced to the door.

"Ginger," all the came out was a whisper. "Is that you?" A cold presence of death had blown passed her as she crouched down onto the carpet looking at the lifeless form. "Ginger?!" she screamed hard, her friend gasped for air. Blood trailed in the cracks of the tiles as a piece of a glass shard caught her attention.

"What the hell did you do?" she began to feel unwanted tears. "Can you hear me you son of a b!tch. What did you do?!"

"Selina..." Her voice was faint and weak. "Get out... while you still can..." Eyes flickering as blood dripped down her neck. "He'll kill..."

Selina shook Ginger's body, trying to motivate her friend. "Get up!" She didn't understand what was the reason for her friend's current state-until a hand tugged her strands of hair and dragged her, slamming her face into the carpet. She lifted her head, feeling the pressure of her skull pounding. Blood was dripping from her bottom lip.

"I warn you... b!tch. But you never listen." A cold voice blared as she felt his body crush her back. "You always come back to those you care about. Your ** that serve a great purpose to me until they became pregnant." He turned his head and looked at Ginger. "She tried to run from me." He shook his head.

"She had to return to you. What is it with you women?" He reversed his gaze to Selina. "She's no good to me now. Unless..."

Ginger was balling her eyes out. "Selina run!" she screamed.

His eyes twitched, eager to spatter words at her. "You're going be the main attraction. Men lust after you. That makes the cash flow incline."

Selina's eyes burned with hatred. "Get the hell off of me bastard!" She yelled, grasping for air as he slammed her chin into the floor again.

"Now let's rip those clothes off and see just what type of merchandise I'm dealing with." He started to roll up her sweater, peering at the cream flesh and curves. Fingers slid down lower. "You're a beautiful woman, Kyle. Perfect in every detail." He licked his lips, ready to indulge her. Taste every fiber. "Now how about we turn over and see the front view?"

"It would be a lot easier on yourself if you just left," she warned, feeling irritated by his cold hands.

"You're a dumb b!tch. Stan laughed, pulling out a pistol from his hostler underneath his dress shirt. "No one is going to care about your pathetic body when they find you wrapped in garbage bags if you refused my offers..." He looks at her pocket. "What do we have here? Another spoil for the kitten on the prowl?" He pulled out the 23kt necklace and admired the diamond. "Always the one with the taste. That's what I like about you."

"Taste in jewels not in dogs like you!"

He grasped her shoulders and flipped her over. Unzipping his jeans. Then he pinned her arms down. "This will teach you how to respect me." He was ready to force himself on her as her thighs parted.

"You want respect? Go fall into a grave. You'll get all the respect you want. From the dead," she released a sly smirk.

"Cute. I could use your talents for my sideshow."

"Let me... think. Um... no," she smiled. "You made a terrible mistake in engaging this conversation. You see I already called the police about Ginger's whereabouts. I told them where she was last seen before I entered this apartment."

Stan's attention was drawn to the sirens and footsteps pounding in his ears. "When they come in here and see Ginger's body covered in blood and the gun in your hand - you're going to pay big boy."

"You set me up!" He slapped her across the face.

Selina retaliated and dug her heel into his crotch. She reeled up and bashed her head into his chest, sending him falling onto his back. She landed on top of him, nails digging into his flesh. Bending her head, she whispered. "Better luck next time?" She arose and crawled to Ginger. "Are you alright, Ginge?"

She nodded. "I feel so weak..."

"Hold on..." Selina said, putting on her innocent act - creating salty tears and screaming at the top of her lungs, making the mascara run. The door battered down. She looked up and saw Sgt. Jim Gordon enter with two GCPD officers standing behind him. He looked worried and noticed her at the corner.

"Please help me," Selina screamed. "My friend. He attacked my friend."

Gordon peered at the body of Ginger and quickly moved towards her. "Everything is going to be alright?" He reassured. 'I'm going to get her to medical attention." He looked at the two officers. "Take her down stairs." He ordered.

The officers nodded and entered the bathroom. One scooped Ginger into his strong arms and carried her out.

Stan was clenching his waist, yelping on the floor. "That b!tch!"

Gordon stood before him, shaking his head as he narrowed his eyes at the unzipped jeans.

"Where you're going, you're going to be someone else's b!tch." Selina yelled in anger as the officer guided her out the door. She looked at Ginger with a pale face. It was a face that made her soul cringe. This was the result of working the streets. The bitterness of sin was etching at her soul. The outcome was grim. Either dying in the gutters with disappointment imbedded within a soulless glossy gaze or carrying a child with the guilt.

"I don't want this life," she muttered under her breath as she kept her eyes locked on Ginger.

* * *

Moments later... After watching Stan being escorted into a patrol car, Selina was leaning her back against the wall - arms protectively folded over her chest. She looked scornful by the recent assault she experienced and also the truth about Ginger having a baby.

Sgt. Jim Gordon walked up to her. "Is there anything you need, Miss?" He asked, looking at her heated gaze. She looked dazed.

"I would like to gather a few things up from my apartment," she added. "Just some clothes that I need." She narrowed her eyes to the plastic bag that contained the diamond necklace. "Damn."

Gordon nodded. "Do you have a place to stay?"

"I'll manage." She simply affirmed, heading to the backdoor way. With a quick turn around, "Will Ginger be alright? Tell the doctors that she's pregnant." She replied thinking about the baby.

"Is there a number I can reach you?"

She shrugged. "I'll find out for myself." Quickly with grace and poise, she raced up the stairs. She entered her apartment with rapid speed and grabbed the black evening dress hanging on a hook, lipstick and high heels. She stuffed them into a backpack and moved to the vanity grabbing pieces of stolen jewelry that she fenced.

Stan's cold words ran through her mind. She looked at her reflection knowing that she was a target for the black market. She was labeled as an item. There was no place for her to hide.

Only the shadows.

* * *

{Gotham Courthouse Parking Lot}

Outside, waiting with aggressive eyes as he peered at the traffic driving by, Thomas Elliot stood near two parked cars as he waited patiently for Rachel Dawes. They were going to have lunch at a local dinner. His feverish red hair was covered with a grey Nike tuque as he stood next to a black Porsche, observing the winter scenery, when all of sudden he felt cold eyes staring him down.

There was no sense of empathy. Only a bitter mindless stare produced as his lips curved into a snake grin. A serpents sneer that was devilish as he thought about Selina Kyle. She had become his obsession for inflicting more pain onto Bruce.

There was always conflict between him and the billionaire prince. Parental conflict. Bruce had loving parents that spent timeless memories with him when he was only three years old. Thomas on the other hand was the outcast in his mother's eyes. She called him a mistake.

When his mother became a victim in a car accident, face was disfigured. He witnessed something unforgivable that still ate away at his soul. A nightmarish man smothering the very breath from his mother's lungs as the pillow pressed harder into her face. He watched her thrash and try to fight for her life. It wasn't enough for him. The monster was a relentless sociopath.

Thomas turned and looked at the figure whose dark eyes bored at him from under a hood. The figure slowly moved closer. "And here I thought you wouldn't have the guts," Thomas chuckled.

He waited for the twenty-one year old to advance closer. He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his overcoat. Bruce straightened himself, his back tensed under his structured jacket. He showed no hint of weakness.

"Hello there... Brucie?" Thomas sneered. "Come to say thank you."

"I didn't come here to thank you. I came here to tell you that what you've done..." He gulped down. "You proven to me you're not only no friend, but that you can't be trusted."

"It's Selina's enchantment. You become a slave to her lure. A gutless fool. Just like you're old man."

Bruce glared at him. "You son of a bi-"

"What right do you have to be angry?" Thomas interjected vehemently.

Bruce narrowed his eyes at him. "What are you talking about?"

Thomas scoffed. "You might have fallen further than your old man, Bruce. Look at you! You've been a mess for the last thirteen years living in self-pity, treating me and Rachel like crap when all we've tried to be are your friends. And suddenly you think you deserve to be happy?!"

Bruce felt a moment of remorse before it was washed away by his anger. "Why did you do it Thomas? Was it jealousy or all this imagined animosity I've shown towards you?"

"It wasn't imagined Bruce. Don't hide behind your self-righteous facade. Deep down you're a whiny little brat crying for mom and dad while lashing out at everyone else close to you. You don't deserve someone like Selina!"

Bruce was silent a long moment, contemplating Thomas' words despite his anger. "That might be true. But that's not up to you, Thomas... or me. And what I think is eating you up inside is despite our pasts... despite ours losses and the decade you've had of being the sociable one, and me the miserable one..." Bruce took a step closer to Thomas who stared at him dangerously. "You still wish you were me."

Thomas lunged at Bruce and whipped him down hard with a blow to the jaw. Bruce went down, tasting the blood drip down his throat. His teeth gritted as he became fused with anger.

"I wonder what Selina is like in bed. Probably a dream. Maybe I should go-"

Bruce spat blood to the ground. He lunged, swinging a fist. Thomas dodged and jabbed him in the stomach.

"Always the softie, Brucie." He laughed.

Bruce retaliated with a well aimed headbutt, hitting Thomas in the lip. He groaned in pain, holding his mouth. "Son of a bi-" He withdrew his hand and found blood.

"Soft? I'm not the one that's bleeding." Bruce retorted.

Thomas' eyes burned with anger. "Not yet you're not!" He tackled Bruce against a car and lashed at his with a punch across the face. Bruce was dazed momentarily after the second punch, then acted on adrenaline and shoved Thomas off of him before delivering an elbow to the chin. Thomas fell backward against a car and caused the alarm to go off.

Both men continued going at each others throats despite the noise, grunting loudly in their attacks. Thomas grabbed Bruce by the neck and tried to force his head into the hood of a car. Bruce blocked, elbowed him then countered by grabbing Thomas' own head and bringing it down against the surface of the hood.

Not relenting, Bruce tackled him against the side of a door. Thomas beat his fist against Bruce's back to get him to release his hold. Bruce staggered, Thomas aimed a fist at Bruce's mouth and smiled with sick pleasure as he could see blood spewing from a cut he'd left there.

Bruce narrowed his eyes at Thomas. "You satisfied?" He growled.

"What's wrong Bruce?! Had enough?! Too much for you?!" Thomas took another swing. Bruce captured his arm and spun Thomas into a headlock.

"Who is the gutless fool now, Thomas!" Bruce yelled over the car alarm still blaring.

Thomas threw his weight backwards and he and Bruce collide against the window of a car, smashing the window. Bruce released his grip. Both young men fall to the ground. Thomas aimed another fist at Bruce who blocked and countered with a punch of his own across Thomas's face.

In the background a number of students and pedestrians are gathering - watching the two men. Some of them were excited and the others worried. One of them pulled out a phone to call for help. Thomas and Bruce continued their scuffle, ignoring the audience.

Bruce was now held Thomas up against the car with his elbow wedged beneath his chin. In the midst of the crowd, Rachel appeared and watched horrifically as her two friends were pummeling each other.

"Bruce!" Rachel screamed, looking at her childhood friend whipping his fist at Thomas. "Stop it!" She withdrew a saddened look as he gave her an aggressive response.

"Leave, Rachel." He hissed in a reckless tone. "Get out of here!"

She was brave and moved into the middle of both men. "Enough."

Thomas pressed his hands into Bruce's chest and pushed him down. "That's where you belong, Wayne." He scoffed, walking away.

Bruce reeled himself up, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. "Get back here, Tommy! I'm not finished." He yelled in an animalistic growl with a hint of a low gravely rasp. His sharp top canines bit into the flesh of his bottom lip.

Rachel crouched down beside him, her hand grabbed his arm "Come on, Bruce. There is no need for this," she said softly.

Bruce yanked his arm away. "Get out of my way!"

He watched his best friend, Thomas swipe the blood from his lip and grumbled words that etched his soul, moving away, leaving coldness in the air and a hidden warning.

Rachel shook her head. "What happen between you two?" She wiped Bruce's lip. "This is not like you, Bruce. You're a better man than this." She looked at the crowd forming. Everyone in the parking lot was looking at the billionaire.

"What are they staring at?" He growled feeling the confusion and combustion within. At the corner of his eye he saw a blanket of sorrow on Rachel's face. He arose from the pavement.

He was transforming into a monster. His own anger that he kept locked inside was unleashing. His intensive eyes were darkened with remorse. Lips became curled into a scowl.

Rachel walked him to her car. "Thomas is acting like a jerk. More then usual," she replied. "That doesn't give you the right to attack him."

"You don't understand." Bruce said, lips barley moving. "You can never understand."

"Why not?" She countered. "You think you're the only one that knows pain, Bruce." She spoke harshly. "You're hurting all of us. What about Selina? Do you want hurt her?"

"No," His voice had become soft with remorse as he recalled Thomas' similar words.

"You care for her don't you? That's what Thomas is angry about. He's jealous of your happiness. He would rather see you alone." She paused. "I'm sorry that you had to experience all of this today."

"He wanted me to do... something cruel to Selina. I couldn't." He spoke low, withholding the rest of details of the rest of his argument with Thomas from her. His only concern right now was Selina. "What if he goes after her, Rachel?"

"He won't."

He shrugged. "You don't know that."

"Bruce," she looked deeply into his eyes. "Selina is going to be fine. Speaking of her, are we still on for tonight?" She had to change the subject. "At eight. I got your message on my cell around ten."

"I think so," He replied as his soft eyes met hers. They were filled with unspoken uncertainty. Rachel noticed the haunted look, she was searching his face with a growing concern.

"Are you alright?" She moved to the driver's side. "Is there anywhere you want to be dropped off?"

Bruce swallowed thickly. He didn't want to return to Princeton. "Wayne Manor." That was his decision.

Rachel gave a short nod. "OK."

* * *

{Wayne Manor}

Three hours later...

Temperature had deceased, the mixtures of winter's light steamed through the giant windows in the main study as Alfred placed a glass of water on a rounded oak table next to a globe. The form underneath a comforter reacted to the sound of footsteps, groaning with a hint of annoyance and crunching his body inches deeper into the cushions.

"Time to wake, Master Wayne," Alfred said softly, turning his gaze to the grandfather clock ticking back and forth. He just stood there in a silent manner watching his young master slowly awake from a deep sleep. "I thought I would wake you two hours before cause I know that you take long showers."

"I don't have to take a shower, Alfred. Already took one this morning." He rose his chest slowly, using his arms for support. Bangs were hanging over his eyes. Lips were still stinging from the fray he had hours before with Thomas Elliot. He was sure the cops would catch wind of his involvement and he would find himself facing charges for property damage. That was the least of his concerns right now.

"What time is it?"

"Almost five, you should take another shower. You look a bit worst for wear at the moment. I thought you wanted to impress Miss Kyle and Miss Dawes this evening?"

Bruce blow up an audible grumble. "Fine. I'll take a shower." He sat up, rubbing his eyes. He looked at the wrinkles that dug into Alfred's face. "I need you to drive me to the hotel." He ordered with a bratty tone. "Did anyone call?" His voice was heavy, hoping that Selina would have called and told him that she needed to be picked up. He was looking forward to this night.

"Just the dean at Princeton." Alfred confirmed. "No one else." He watched Bruce quickly stand up and look down at the glass of water. "I trust that you'll be leaving a little earlier than the previous engagements that you always arrive late for? Its becoming a habit of yours. Then again, young billionaire playboys are required to be the center of attention."

Bruce winced as he lifted his elbow. Thomas's jabs had left their mark. "The cops might be ringing in soon, Alfred. Tell them I'll cooperate fully and pay for whatever damages Thomas and I caused this morning." Alfred nodded. "Very well sir." Bruce turned towards the door. "I'll be in the shower." He walked out of the room, still feeling hazy as his socks dragged onto the floor.

Alfred followed.

"What?" Bruce asked without facing his butler.

"How important is this woman to you, Master Wayne?" Alfred said quickly before reaching the point of being locked into the sharp stare of Bruce. "You told me once before you left for Princeton that romance was a complication. A dangerous attachment that you couldn't afford to be a part of. But I will give you words of encouragement."

Bruce turned to face his butler. His lips parted as he exhaled. "That was then, Alfred. Selina has made a difference." He frowned, thinking about all the stares and cold words he endured in the halls of Princeton almost like he was cursed to be alone forever. "I think I'm ready to..." He wanted to say 'date', instead his throat closed.

"I know that you've had much pain and tragedy in your life. But you're still young. You need to enjoy the life that you're parents gave you. If this woman is who you want to spend those moments with that take away the pain."

Bruce thought about the entwined heartbreak and the guilt. Images of Rachel's saddened face flashed before his eyes when he was wailing his fist at Thomas. His thoughts were beginning to drag.

Alfred knew that he had to make a quick change of subject. "What is this Miss Kyle like?"

The twenty-one year old flickered his eyes. "Um..." That was the only reply that he released at the moment. "She is a breath of fresh air, Alfred." He closed his lips knowing that sounded lame. "No. She is a mystery of the night. Her eyes dazzle when she smiles and those crimson lips just melt into your own."

"She sounds wonderful. "Alfred said, looking at his watch. "Better get a move on, it's almost quarter after five."

Bruce nodded and hasted down the hallway.

"Sir, everything is prepared for you in the master bedroom," Alfred called out.

"Got it, Alfred." Bruce answered, marching up the stairwell.


	6. Chapter 6 : December Nights

**Chapter 6 : December Nights  
**

* * *

The atmosphere inside the restaurant of the famous Gotham Arms Hotel was pulsing coldness. There was no sense of warmth coming from the other dining guests clicking their wine glasses together as mouths indulged on savory grilled chicken and roasted sweet potatoes dipped in sour cream dressing.

The smell of garlic from the pasta across her way was potent. Waiters carried trays of fudge brownies covered in caramels and strawberries. She could feel her stomach demanding for the taste of this blissful pleasure being served around her.

Rachel Dawes sat at a reserved table, sipping a glass of the finest red wine in Gotham. The flavor rattled her throat as mixtures of crisp fermented grapes and sugar dripped down. Her straight brunette hair flowed off her shoulders blades. She turned her gaze to the other tables and then back to the deep purplish liquid in her glass until a rich voice grabbed her attention. She turned her head and nodded.

"Rachel," A dashing Bruce Wayne, wearing an Armani white blue dress suit and dress pants, called out in a sugary tone - passing the other tables in a casual manner. His dark chocolate hair was combed to the side, showing thick wavy locks as bangs dropped onto his groomed eyebrows.

He smiled, showing the top jagged canines as creases of fleshy rich skin became pronounced, making his cheeks appear to be thicker. His eyes were bright and jovial as he walked to the table of which she sat and quickly gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek. "Sorry that I'm late..." He trailed off, observing the flakes of snow bouncing off the window.

Rachel gave him a perky smile. "I'm a little used to your habits by now, Bruce," she replied. "How are you doing?" That was her question at the moment, knowing that he wasn't going to be attending Princeton anymore nor attending any form of school. He had enough grades to run his father's company without the consent of the board members stating that he needed to earn a degree before taking over.

"You roughed yourself up a bit this afternoon, I was just worried about you."

"Rachel, I'm fine." He instantly shot back, sitting in the chair across.

"Bruce you're not fine. I know..." She swallowed her words for a moment. "That you've been hurting inside. I've known that for a long time ever since that day when I saw you in the bedroom window after the funeral and we waved to each other. The look on your face made you appear to be forsaken by the death of your parents. We all loved your parents, Bruce." She paused. "What Joe Chill did to them was unforgivable. But he's paying the price."

"Price?" Bruce rasped in a lower tone with a hint of edge. "Blood is still pumping in his veins while he sits in that cell and rots." Upper lip curved." He hasn't paid. Not yet." There was a haunting pause that lingered between them as he scowled, growing bitter and unnerving.

"What is really going on Bruce?" Rachel asked with concern. "You can tell me... We've always talked about our problems even as kids."

Bruce stared at her with unblinking eyes, his pupils capturing the softness of the lights that shone around him. Deep within the mixture of butter scotch-forest green were unwritten words of guilt and remorse that he kept hidden.

Rachel could see the unsettled confusion as his lip quirked up showing the intent around the thin edge of the corner of his mouth. His expression was innocent and unsteady. Bits of left over blood still hung loosely at the groove of his rounded chin. Baby fat still remained. She kept silent as her bluish teal eyes studied her childhood friend with distinct precision. There was tenderness concealed within his soft skin as he blinked while keeping his focus fixed on her. Shadows of darkness became sculpted on the left side of face as he exhaled.

"There is nothing more to talk about, Rachel." He huffed in anger. His eyes glanced at the aisle way of tables for any sign of his alluring Selina. He only saw waiters and waitresses serving and handing bills to the other customers. "Where is she?" He grumbled.

"She is probably running a bit late," Rachel's voice trailed.

Bruce angled his eyes to Rachel. "You're probably right." His lips clasped together, forming a curvy line as he downcast his eyes. "Rachel, I didn't mean to snap at you."

"It's okay, Bruce." Rachel enveloped her hand on top of his. "What are friends for?"

"It's just that..." There was a drone of flatness within his words. He dropped his chin onto his dress shirt. "I feel so useless. I can't do anything as Bruce Wayne." He was starting to seek out answers. Ready to escape from the abyss that was taking control on his life. All he had for a beacon was Selina Kyle. Inside, his soul was restless and grasping for a purpose to restore the happiness he once had before that unforgivable night.

Was he ready to have an relationship with Selina?

"What do you mean?" Rachel spoke in a gentle voice.

He shrugged. "I know that I can do so much more for this city." He was searching in his mind. "The way that my father did. I want to help people, Rachel. Being suck in Wayne Tower isn't really going to make a difference."

Rachel looked surprise by her friend's words. "Anyone can make a difference Bruce. You just have to figure out what you want in life."

Bruce's eyes lifted. "That's the problem. I don't where to begin."

She was ready to say a few more words when a young ginger haired brunette caught her full attention. She was stricken by the presence of classy woman walking towards their table. "Maybe you just have to turn around?"

Bruce raised his eyebrows. He turned his head and sighed in relief as Selina Kyle gave him a blissful smile. He arose from the table and walked over to her. His arms embraced her as his lips gave a light kiss to her flawless cheek. "What took you?" he asked.

"Worried that I was shut in?" Selina replied, noticing that his eyes were fixated of the outfit she wore for the evening. Sleeveless plain black dress with three chained necklaces wrapped around her thin graceful neck. Golden rose shaped earrings. Her long hair was straight with wavy strands at the tips. Bangs touched her eyebrows as her hair shapely formed around her cheeks. Coffee-milk chocolate eyes heightened with black eyeliner and mascara to make her eyelashes thick. Deep crimson lips covered with a clear gloss.

"Not really," He lied, admiring her blooming allure. "You look amazing..." He spoke in a whispering monotone.

Selina gleamed, surveying his evening attire. "You're not bad yourself."

Bruce lead her to the table to be introduced to Rachel. "Selina Kyle, this is Rachel Dawes - my oldest and childhood friend."

Selina held out her hand. "Nice to meet you, Rachel." She acted in an elegant manner as Rachel shook her hand.

"So you are the woman that Bruce has been talking about. It is so nice to finally meet you. I have heard a lot of about you."

"Oh really?" Selina shifted her eyes to the young billionaire. "Its no surprise that Bruce tells everyone about me." As she spoke, Rachel noticed the pieces of remorse were starting to shed off. She knew that Selina was holding something back - nothing harmful to Bruce but a secret that she was afraid to tell. There were a few bruises covered up with cream make up and a small cut on her forehead.

Bruce pulled out a chair for her as she sat down.

"Sorry that I was late," She began. "I couldn't figure out what to wear."

"Let's order before it gets too late." Bruce insisted, looking at the menu. His lips were straight as he was deciding what to indulge this winter evening.

Selina lifted her menu as her eyes gazing the at the over priced delicacies. She was amazed at how much food cost for the rich elite. Her eyes lifted, looking at Bruce. "So what is the billionaire prince of Gotham ordering?" She asked.

"Chicken Parmesan caught my eye." Bruce replied as the waiter came to their table.

"Is everyone ready to order?" He spoke in a French accent.

Bruce looked at the two ladies. "I believe so." He gestured his hand to Rachel. "She'll go first."

Rachel looked at the menu. "I will have the chicken garden salad. Very little dressing and onions." She said, handing the menu to the waiter.

Selina twisted her bottom lip for a moment. "Greek pasta." She replied.

The waiter nodded, looking at Bruce. "Sir?" He asked.

"Hmmm..." Bruce made his choice. "Chicken Parmesan. Lots of garlic bread."

"Good choice, Mr. Wayne." The waiter answered, taking his menu and walked casually away from the table. Selina nudged Bruce's shoulder.

"Someone is hungry tonight." She teased.

Bruce smirked.

* * *

Later, during dessert, all three of them were enjoying the finishing touch of their meal - devils chocolate truffle cake with chopped pecans. Rachel moved her finger around the rim of her coffee cup. "So how did you two meet?" She implied.

Bruce and Selina looked at each other for a moment. "Its a long story. Just not your average boy meets girl story that you watch with gushing tears in those romantic flicks. Just a simple introduction." Selina answered, sounding lame. "Actually to give you a clearer understanding, Bruce sort of saved my life from an idiot mark." She released in a scornful tone, thinking about Stan. "After that I guess we connected. Isn't that right, handsome?"

His face started to have rosy glow. "Um... I..." He was lost in his words. "Yeah."

"Speechless are we?" Selina coaxed as Rachel was smirking.

"Have you always lived in Gotham?" Rachel asked curiously.

"All my life." Selina grimly stated. "My family moved from different backdrop apartments because of my mother's line of work. Sometimes we had it rough, but hell - doesn't every family."

Bruce gave a withering look to Rachel.

"Sure my childhood wasn't the greatest but I had everything that I needed." She became distant with words. "We can't all have perfect lives."

Rachel agreed and then she discovered another topic. "Have you two heard about the Christmas Ball that is happening on December 23rd at City Hall?"

"No." Bruce stated, finishing his last bite of cake. "I haven't."

"I was just thinking that maybe you two could attend the ball. It's for a good cause this year. I am just suggesting unless you have other plans." She asked knowing that Selina was a beacon of hope that she had waited for Bruce to have in his gloomy. She liked how the young brunette wasn't afraid to speak her mind. That meant something to Rachel. It meant that this young woman sitting across from her was a strong and a take charge kind of girl that Bruce needed to pull him out of the darkness. The way she couldn't. That was eating away at her.

"Well, Bruce..." She looked at her wrist watch, "I think I better call it a night. I have a ton of paper work to file in the morning." She arose from the table and looked down at Selina. "It was nice to finally meet you, Selina. I look forward to seeing you again."

"Likewise." Selina responded.

Rachel moved to Bruce who stood up from his chair and kissed him on the cheek. "Goodbye, Bruce." She felt her heartbreaking inside as she tried to suppress the tears filling in her eyes.

"Rachel..." Bruce spoke in a gentle tone. Her teal eyes matched the darkness in his.

"Take care of yourself." Rachel said as she walked away, wiping her eyes while keeping her head raised and shoulders straight.

Bruce sat back down. He turned and gazed at the woman he was falling in love with. His lips opened as his eyes stared at Selina with sadness.

"Handsome?" She asked, pulling her chair closer to his.

"It was a mistake to invite her. I'm just a damn fool." He lifted his head and looked at the ceiling. "What kind of man am I when I just hurt the people closest to me?" He grasped her hand tightly. "I've known for a long time that there was an attraction between us. I do care for her but as a trusted friend." He needed to confide with Selina. She was the only one that listened to his own pain that he kept at bay.

"Yeah, maybe you are a damn fool." Selina replied, brushing the bangs off his forehead. "Maybe we are all damn fools cursed to live a life of disappointment. I can see that Rachel is a true friend. She will always be there for you, if you let her."

He nodded. "I lost Thomas. I can't afford to lose Rachel."

"So what are you going to do about this?"

"I'll make it up to her." He regained his focus on her. "Right now I'll be a little occupied with a woman named Selina Kyle." He tasted that flowing name on his moist lips. Everything in that name was pure poetry. Filled with romance, tragedy and comedy that defined her in his eyes.

"What do you want to do now... wait, don't you have exams to study for?"

He shook his head. "I'm no longer part of Princeton Academics."

"Well then," she pulled out her chair and stood by his side. "Lead the way, Mister Wayne."

* * *

After a long leisurely walk down the narrow sidewalks, holding hands, they delighted their throats with cups of hot chocolate - relishing the moments that were shared between them while discovering different outlooks of the after hours in Gotham. Light flakes of snow touched the tip of her nose as she rested her head on his broad shoulder.

Wayne Tower was blurring away from them as Bruce turned his head to catch a glimpse of his planned future. It was becoming nothing but a background glow in his butterscotch-forest green eyes. The W on the high point of the tower gleamed above the city as his beacon to living a business man's life. It was a life that Bruce intrusted would never happen.

Standing in a distant corner, a devil clothed in flesh and blood gazed at the young couple with sea water eyes burning coals of hatred. He looked at Bruce with a sneer and mumbled cursive words over the billionaire's life. "You're going to fall Wayne. This time no daddy is going to help you pick yourself up." He finally held an obsession towards making Bruce Wayne's life a living hell.

Selina was slowly drifting into a state of peace as they moved towards a darkened corner. Bruce paused as a frown took shape across his lips. His face betrayed dark tones of complex feelings that he was trying to hold back. She could feel his pulse rising. His jaw tensed as eyes shifted to the shadowy alleyway. He was slipping into a delusion that was pulling him into the darkness.

"And here I thought it was going to be a pleasant evening," she said bluntly.

Bruce awoke from his thoughts. "Let me ask you something?" He started. "Have you ever seen the ugliness in this city, Selina?"

"All the time. It's something that I've become used too." There was a lump in her throat. "Why the sudden tragic drama?" She kept herself quiet. "You're bottling something up inside that sexy body of yours. My guess - its has something to do with that alleyway over there. It is almost like you're drawn to the mystery of those walls."

"I've seen the ugliness of this city." His breath was steady. "When the two people I loved were taken from me by a man named Joe Chill. Now he's sharing a cell with Carmine Falcone. That is his price for murder." He squeezed his hand into a fist. "The price I have to endure every day of my life. There is no comfort in this shell of mine... I am hollow."

Selina arched an eyebrow. "Hollow, huh?" She twirled her body to face him dead on. He looked at her with teary eyes as she leaned forward and took his lips under her own until they were both lost into a savory interlock. He opened to her instantly - sucking the beauty, unaffected by the sorrow that was making his heart bleed. She had taken his mind off the haunting memories. A tasteful pleasurable moment that he wished could last longer.

She pulled away, cradling his face with both hands. "I don't think you're hollow. Just lost." She started to walk away as he grabbed her wrist.

"Don't go," He spoke in a depressing voice. "Stay with me."

Selina licked her lips. " Bruce..." She moved closer to his chest and attacked his lips with a hard kiss. She backed away before his eyes opened. "See you around, handsome." She whispered, disappearing into the shadows.

"Selina," He called out. "When can I see you again..."

There was no reply - just the silence of the snow falling.

Bruce reached into his coat pocket and dialed for Alfred on his mobile.

"I'll find you, Selina." He breathed, waiting for his butler to answer his call.

* * *

{Gotham General}

One night afterwards...

Selina Kyle walked down the halls of the ICU, arms were at both sides as her high heeled-thigh-high boots clicked on the surface of the floor. She glanced at the numbers of the rooms she passed, looking for the right door to enter. Lt. Jim Gordon was leaning his body against the wall - a cup of coffee was in his hand along with a folder.

"Miss Kyle," he addressed, looking at the young eighteen year old over the frames of his thick glasses. "Can I have a word with you?"

Selina instantly fluttered her eyes and advanced to him. "Look if its about Stan..."

He shook his head. "No it's about your friend Ginger. There is something that you should know before you enter her room."

Selina felt blood drain from her cheeks as she heard those words. "What's wrong with Ginge?" She asked, showing a lighter expression of concern.

Gordon narrowed his eyes to the folder. "I talked with the doctors..."

"What the hell is wrong with my friend?" Selina was feeling a combustion of fury knowing that Stan was behind the grim results she was about to hear from the honest cop that she held little respect towards. He actually did care for the young girls and homeless that lurked the streets during the after hours of the evenings. Maybe he was the only good cop in this city. She devoted her direct attention to him as her eyes hardened.

"The blood result report stated that Ginger has sepsis - a deadly blood poisoning infection. They were monitoring her every hour. Right now the doctor that examined her said that she is fighting a high fever."

"That bastard!" Selina yelled, kicking her boot, shoulder-high, into the wall. " That son of a b!tch did this to her!" Her lungs rattled.

Jim Gordon grasped her shoulder gently. "Calm down, Miss Kyle." He urged. "You can go in and see her now." He said, watching a nurse leave the room.

"What about the baby?" Selina asked. "Will the baby make it?" Tears were welling inside her eyes as she looked deeply at Gordon. "Tell me, please?"

"Its too early to determinate the effects." He replied with a haunted tone.

"Great," She gritted her teeth and walked into the room. Ginger was under the covers, tubes were attached into her skin as she exhaled roughly. An oxygen mask covered her pale lips and her eyes were closed as if they were glued shut.

Selina stood at the bed side. "Is this what you wanted?" Her vocal cords released those cold words as her eyes fell, looking at the baby bump covered with white sheets. "I found out that you have an infection in your blood. Life-threatening. It is too early to discover what the effects will be on the baby." Mascara was running down her cheeks.

"I thought you would be smarter than this. Not a sucker like the rest of them. You've proved me wrong, Ginge." She backed away. "I guess we can't all be survivors." Her milk chocolate amber eyes shifted to the window, showing the sights of Gotham City as a mixture of snow and rain covered the parking lot below.

Ginger began to stir. Her eyes flicked open. She pulled her oxygen mask off and looked at Selina. "Surviving is all we have." She spoke in a weakened tone. "I know the written outcome of the story of my life, Selina. I need you to do something for me."

"Ginge, I'm not a charitable person." Selina answered softly. "I can't even tell Bruce Wayne the truth about how I feel when I'm with him. Who says that I want to tell him the truth. Maybe I like keeping him in the dark."

Ginger gave a slight smile. "Maybe you do..." There was a harsh pause in her voice. "Does he make you happy?"

"Happiness is such a strong word that I have yet to discover." She sighed, wanting to change the subject between them. "So what is it that you want me to do?"

"Selina," she breathed. "I need you to promise me that you will find a good home for my baby to grow up in." She knew the truth like death was coming to cloak her in a few months. That was how much time she had left. The disease that flowed in her veins was increasing the effects. Her body was growing weaker by the day. The only thing that kept her from giving in to this sad conclusion was her child growing inside her womb.

"Okay." Selina nodded faintly. "I promise."

* * *

Selina stood in the alleyway listening to the endless cries of the city as a rhythmic melody in the dark. Slight discomfort etched on her soul as she leaned her back agaisnt the rough brick wall, barely feeling the coldness of winter enter her body. Light sleet was soaking her skin. She knew that changes were coming. Like a winter storm that was brewing above the city.

"There's a storm coming..." Voice slipped out. She spent all those hard nights feeling controlled by the society that formed around her. She cashed in her bad luck each time her eyes stared out the city from the backdrops of the low income homes that she made into her perch - to breathe in the dingy streets before running on the rooftops.

Her heart was pounding in her chest as a mask of fear cloaked her. Touching the crumbling brick with her fingertips - not giving a damn about what people thought of her as they passed by. She did not care any more about being a stray cat. She embraced that conclusion while finding out that her friend was sick with a sexually transmitted disease and to top things off - was pregnant with a three month old baby. A baby bump she was hiding by wearing sweat pants and a thick sweater that made the eighteen year old feel consumed with hardened anger.

"What the hell am I doing?" She snarled as tears flowed down her frozen cheeks, unlocking her inner turmoil. She didn't want to believe that her life was reaching the deep end. Soon she would gutter trash if she didn't turn the tables of the grim outcome.

Coffee-milk chocolate eyes became focused on the glows of Christmas lights decorated on the balconies of the apartments above. Comforting warm colors of deep bright reds and greens, some light blues mixed with white. Dark hair covered her shoulders as her gloved hand swiped the tears from her blood shot eyes.

The sound of footsteps crunching from behind made her defenses spike. "Listen pal," she growled. "I'm not in the mood of dancing with a street mugger. So beat it!"

"Now we wouldn't want to make things too difficult." That rich tone echoed in her eardrums as her face became softened by the presence. She slowly turned as the eyes matched the deep set hues of Bruce Wayne. He looked different - hair slicked back showing the sharpness of his cheek bones. He wore a dark brown cashmere overcoat with a blue hooded sweater underneath. The zipper was down revealing a Navy blue t-shirt.

"Surprised to see me," He spoke in a somber voice.

"I thought you were a shut-in these days." She stuffed her hands inside the pockets of her jacket and strode closer as he stood near the entrance of the alleyway. Shining spectrum's of hazel focused on the allure that was pulsing into her veins. He could see the darkness outlining her face.

Bruce shrugged. "I felt like some fresh air." His replied. "Spending evenings behind the walls of a manor makes you restless." His voice was calm, steady and honest. His boots rubbed against the frozen pavement as he pulled closer to her body. Gingerly, she moved back but his arms locked around her. She was imprisoned by warmth.

Selina pulled off her gloves, letting her soft hands feel cool on his feverish skin. She had neglected the passion her body craved by letting fear of a crossroads grab hold of her life and take her to places where she dreaded to go. Her mind was spinning scenarios of everything that had happened this evening. All the news the doctors and nurses told her about Ginger and the soon to be baby that would be welcomed into this world and placed into an orphanage.

Bruce sensed that she was troubled. "Is everything, okay?" He asked.

Her soul was cringing, body shaking. Dead silence hung between them. She swallowed thick air. She could feel the fire within - burning as her lips parted. He was imploring her to say something. She couldn't not reveal the life she lived, the moments spent on backdrops and thresholds of this forsaken city.

Mostly she didn't want to tell him about Ginger. Her feelings were crushing her, her bones ached for the mortal answer to release. Instead she said three simple words. "Everything is fine."

"Don't lie to me, Selina." His gloved hand brushed across her cheeks. "Something is bothering you. You're never this quiet."

She bit her bottom lip. "Okay, so maybe everything is not right as rain with me. But I'm a tough girl. I know how to handle my own battles in life." A hand clasped his cheek. "Don't worry about me, handsome." She spoke toneless.

"I just want to make sure..." There was a thickly pause. "I don't want anything to happen to you."

"Bruce," She inhaled the scent of his aftershave and then lunged herself forward into him, touching his chest as her crimson lips crashed hard onto his warm inviting ones. She indulged him, tasting the favorable passion she received. Warmth was tightening around her. His lips enveloped hers. He ran his firm hands down her sleek back as he deepened the kiss.

They unlocked, looking breathless and appreciative towards each others emotions. She stared at his dark complex features that became mixed in with the colors of the city lights. Bruce leaned his heated mouth over to her and kissed her lips again.

It was a perfect blissful moment that could be captured by its intensity as it overwhelmed their bodies with the expanding sense of sheer delight and he grasped her hips, reminding himself that she was his dream of a better life.

Selina rubbed her lips together and finally spoke. "Would you like to get out of the cold and go find someplace warm?" She challenged as her arms wrapped around his neck.

"What did you have in mind?" He asked.

"You'll see. I'm not one towards spoiling surprises."


	7. Chapter 7 : Christmas Bliss

**Chapter 7 : Christmas Bliss**

* * *

December 23rd,

Icy slush touched the tips of high heel thigh length stilettos boots. The shafts of a misty crescent moon reflected off the ice covered sidewalks as the midnight hour was slowly creeping closer. Her soul stirred as the movement of shadow bounced off her brick straight mass of thick chocolate-ginger hair that met the rhythm of the crisp wind.

As a flashback of the night she spent with the billionaire flashed forth in her mind.

{Flashback}

_Shafts of luminescence streamed through the cracks of stain glass from the arched window. He stood there - bare chested showing the growing definition of his chest and compacted abdomen that made his vanity sink in. He twisted to capture the young fervid eighteen year old as she laid on the surface of cotton sheets - dark ginger tinged strands shaped her face, body arched perfectly as ivories bit her finger. _

_ Both smoky shadowed coffee-milk chocolate eyes were locked onto him. Lips craved for an attack. She blinked her thick lashes, grasping the prince of Gotham of her dreams. He was gorgeous, indents shadowed his pursed lips, cleft that met the arrow point of his sloped nose, thick neck and the deep-set eyes that made his almond shaped eyes become trapped into a cloak of mystery._

_ This small closed in apartment that she spent most of her nights as a child was her secret garden. A sanctuary for refuge from the outer world. Full of piles forgotten books, shelves of empty perfume bottles and wine glasses. Dried rose pedals were found on the stained oak vanity, a half-empty bottle of aged wine was on the floor. Cherry cushion wing back chair near the twin sized mattress. _

_ This was her shelter from the storm. A haven from the bitterness of the grey shaded world she ventured into each night. She was a stray cat that walked the backdrops searching for a place to call home. Every time she had gotten close a boot kicked her through the door and back into the dingy streets. She would continue her search until a doorway remained wide-opened with a welcoming promise. Maybe this man standing in the dim moonlight was her home._

_ Bruce was fully alert of all senses as he watched over her, studying each fiber of her body. She rolled on her back, hands touching the crease of her tank top. Her hair ran down the side of the mattress as her daring eyes called him over._

_ Moments after... finding the courage to pull the covers further away from the pillow, he laid on the soft mattress, left side of his face deepening into the pillow. He was letting his guard down, showing complete trust in her. This was the highest point of trust of a relationship between a man and a woman. This small second hand bed represented a hideaway from the madness._

_ Bruce allowed her to curl up closer to his side. Inside the man known to be distrustful, non-spoken, self-contained and a cold soul that guarded his emotions in a vault._

_ Tonight was the first night that he shared a bed with Selina Kyle. He never had this close contact with a woman before. Only his lips impacting her own but this was a whole new experience that his body was preparing for. He listened to the deep breath escaping her crimson blades._

_ He had lain under the covers relishing the moment as strands touched her bare shoulders with graceful movement. He watched her chest rise and descend as a warm expression made her head rest on his chest._

_ "I can't believe that this happening?" Bruce mumbled, sliding his heated hand down the smooth flesh of her skin. He was half-dazed as if a weight was lifting from his shoulders. Dead weight of past regrets and the pain that he endured since he lost his innocence. It was an attachment that couldn't be let go._

_ The traumatic images of his mother's chest dripping blood from the bullet hole was etched deep inside. The voice of his father's assuring tone telling him that he had nothing to fear as his hand coldly slipped away as death came over his body._

_ "Selina, this isn't easy for me," He manged to confess, thinking about the past and how much he had become a distant form of the man his parents molded him to be in this world. A man of decision, compassion and perseverance. Not this closed-in coward that spent most of his days looking out through the glass of life outside his nightmarish torment._

_ Selina sensed the dismal surging through his veins. She paced her breath as her lips rubbed together. High levels of octane increased. "Then let me lighten up the mood a little." She reeled up and threw her hair back as her knees interlocked on his hips._

_ "Wait... what are you doing?" He barely asked._

_ "Relax handsome," She brushed the wispy bangs of deep chocolate and cinnamon off his forehead, gazing inwardly into the chasms of his melted butterscotch ginger and lush of evergreen forest. The rim of her lip curled slightly as she lowered her head and aligned her chest with his._

_ Bruce lifted his gaze, looking into her eyes. They were shining brilliantly like dazzling jewels. "Selina..." His breath was dying as the version of pure ecstasy flashed into the hues of tinted shade._

_ She felt her soul aching as haunting images of Stan beating her to the ground, unzipping his jeans made her cringe as Bruce's hand gently touched her neck. He peered at the mark imbedded in her skin. Reminders of a hard life. She never had the luxury of being treated like a human being in a man's firm grasp. She could find plenty of reasons to doubt herself from this moment of total passion that was driving her onward to his moist lips._

_ "Bruce..." she replied as her gaze wandered to the stain glass window projecting colors of Gotham City at night. Soft orange glows from the street lamps posted on every corner, Christmas decor found on balconies of nearby apartments across, the faint chill of December engulfing both of their bodies for their only heat was flesh and blood._

_ He pulled himself up and attacked her lips without any hesitation._

_ No second thoughts._

_ The once grim billionaire was finding love for the first time. He was falling in love with her. Inside his shell, the bleeding heart was beating to its own rhythm. He remembered her explaining about different kisses at the pizza joint. This one had meaning._

_ She felt his body pulsing agaisnt the curves of her stomach. She pressed harder into his mouth, tongues rattling on the rooftops of their mouth's as she indulged his passion with sheer delight._

_ Bruce managed to release. "Will you disappear that I will have to find you again?"_

_ Selina answered in a sugary voice. "I do like the thrill of the hunt." She pressed her lips lightly on his neck. "Tonight I will make one exception..."_

_ Bruce beamed as he wrapped his arms around her waist and settled her back onto the waves of cotton. He closed his eyes ready to kiss her only to be disturbed by a high pitch noise coming from the rafters above. He quickly darted his eyes open as panic electrified his body. Eyes searching above the dark corners until a blur of blackness fluttering across the ceiling._

_ "What's wrong, handsome?" Selina asked looking puzzled by his frown. "Cat got your tongue?"_

_ Bruce's body quaked as he swallowed his inner most terror. "We're not alone." He rasped in shadowy whisper that sent a frosty chill down her spine._

_ Selina studied his turmoil. "What are you staring at?" she asked._

_ He pointed to the elusive creature with a shaky hand. "That..."_

_ She lifted her chin and peered at the small tormentor. "A bat."_

_ Bruce nodded._

_ "You're telling me that you're afraid of a small rat with wings?" she teased._

_ "Bats frightened me." Bruce responded. "They're my dread."_

_ She shook her head as her lips unlocked and she spoke feathery. "It's okay," she stroked his torso. "Don't worry I'll protect you..."_

* * *

Selina fluttered her eyes, awaking from her regressing thoughts of that night.

She carefully observed the point of entry of her target - basement club facing the Gotham docks. ships were lined in the harbor for arrivals of ordered shipments.

An idiotic mark - Lenny Milton. An average rat that was rendered as the right hand man of Stan gave her the tip off on Alberto Falcone's involvement of paying Stan's bail money, dropping all charges on the assault to Ginger.

She squashed the lump of fear rattling inside her throat. There was no turning back now - her body was preparing to enter into the unknown territory of the king pin of Gotham City: Carmine Falcone.

Smearing the final layer of crimson, she walked to the entrance gathering up all the details. A sleek black limo parked at the curb with a silver haired driver standing motionless at the back door. A bouncer guarding the main doorway, underneath an overhang of icicles that began to drip water onto his bulky shoulders, and a few flashy women dressed in short styled dresses escorting their companions - off duty cops from Gotham's finest.

Selina drew closer to the doorway, her back straightened and smoky eyes looked mystifying to the boorish bouncer who gazed at her with contempt written on his thick face.

"Get lost, kid." He ordered looking at her youthful features. "This is no place for a little girl to spent her nights. Go home."

She pulled out a wad of cash, her profit from pawning the necklace she stole recently after Stan squandered her other spoil that almost cost her her freedom if she hadn't reacted on impulse. She split the cash into two and offered it to the bouncer.

"Let's keep this behind us, okay handsome." She voice purred not realizing that from the backseat of the parked limo, a pair of deadly blue eyes crinkled as lips curled with glare of death - a deformed hand reached for a black umbrella.

"Lawrence, my good man," A rough English accent blared from the window, showing a profile of a crocked nose and ashen skin. "Find out who that tasteful young lady is. She seems to show much valuable profit in that curvy body of hers. Profit that would create an increased amount for the market."

The driver swallowed a knot in his throat and nodded at the request.

Selina entered doorway, senses hitting the volcanic ash that formed into her lungs. She coughed, releasing a breath as her hips swayed to the bar where a raven haired man was sipping a Vodka. His suit was nicely pressed as dark raisin - colored eyes studied her leather pants and plump crimson lips. "Hello there," He spoke in an Italian accent - rich and formal. "What is a pretty thing like you doing in these parts?"

Selina used her boot and pulled out a stool. She placed her handbag on the surface of the bar. "A friend of mine told me about this place." Her lips curled showing creases of remorse imbedded in the flesh. "It looks dead. I'm here to liven it up a bit."

Her dainty figure moved circular around the rim of the glass.

For a moment he simply stared at her. The Mistress of Shadow. Dressed in a fashionably yet deadly outfit as her gloved hands pulled of the jacket revealing a short black dress that went up to her knees - showing a hint of cleavage, hair flowing shapely off her shoulders.

"Well, what did you have in mind?"

She opposed herself to even think of kissing his lips. He wasn't Bruce Wayne. Not even close. Not much detail in his face that captivated her lustful actions, pronounced nose, lankly face and groomed eyebrows.

He moved his shark like gaze over her lustfully. His arm grasped her shoulder and she inwardly cringed. "So tell me what kind of fun did you have in mind?"

Selina bit her bottom lip and lifted her gaze to the loft above. "Can we go somewhere private?" She asked in an innocent voice. "I get anxious around large crowds." She tried to scuff away his heated gaze as his tongue slid across his lips. She could be careless with the options he offered, all she wanted was answers - inside the depths of her clever mind, thoughts were building as his hand aggressively narrowed down to her breasts.

"I wonder what surprises you have to offer?"

"Wouldn't you like to know, good-looking?" She spat showing caliginous features as he smelt her hair. "Careful. You're reaching into unknown territory." Her voice was vinegary. "Let's go upstairs. Shall we, handsome?" She had him at a vulnerable state.

Alberto smirked. "Upstairs. You're a dangerous woman aren't you?" He gazed at her intoxicating features.

Selina laughed faintly. "You have no idea." She replied in an audacious salty tone.

* * *

n the upper loft of Carmine Falcone's basement club, Alberto Falcone was walking towards a desk with two glasses of whiskey in his hand. He watched Selina sitting on the surface of the desk looking seductive.

"I thought this would go well with the mood," He stated handing her a glass. She fluttered her lash in malevolence.

"You shouldn't have." A deadly scowl formed across her lips as the edges of her mouth curled. She took a fast swig and threw the glass onto the floor. Alberto watched the pieces fly. "But you see I'm not in the mood for your kind of fun." She licked her teeth in disgust. "No. I'm a girl that likes to play dangerously to the idiotic asses like you." She jumped quickly onto her heels, crouched in a cat like position, finger nails digging into the cherry oak.

Alberto reacted with impulse and drew out a pistol.

"Cute toy. Let me guess... an early Christmas present from Daddy?" She coaxed, marveling at his dumbfounded expression.

"What the hell do you want?" Alberto snarled.

Selina acted fast. She grabbed him and threw him across the room. His back slammed into the wall as she advanced, hips swaying and lips tight. He lined the gun at her chest, hand on the trigger. "Say goodnight, kitten."

Whack!"

She used her high heeled boot and kicked the gun out of his hand. In a bold move, she wrapped her hand around his throat. "Who sent Stan to kill Ginger Robinson?" She growled, jaw tensed and blood pumping. "Answer me and I won't scratch your eyes out!"

Alberto laughed. "You're a dumb b!tch, coming into this territory. My father will have you drift into Gotham Bay in a pine coffin." He threatened.

"Sorry, but I'm not planning for funeral arrangements at the moment." She squeezed tighter, watching him gasp for air. "Maybe you should start planning for yours?"

"B!tch!"

Selina drew her lips closer to her ear. "Tell me what I want to hear unless you want a broken wind pipe."

"Alright. Have it your way. Stan is paid up with the right people in the market that my father was just an item that was waiting to be sold. Most of you b!tches are in this city."

She grinned her teeth. "She was pregnant!"

"That decreases the value!"

She used her elbow and rammed it into his jaw. He yelped as blood dripped from his lips. "My father will gut out your heart for this?" He screamed.

"Oh really..." She headed for the fire escape window. "Well... I'm always up for a chase." She blew him a kiss. "See you around." She did a back flip off the balcony. Her knees absorbed the shock from the impact of her heels hitting the frozen cement. Waiting for a black tinted Honda to pass, she raced across the street and vanished into the umbra of shadow.

Alberto swiped the blood off his face and growled. "Next time you won't be so lucky."

* * *

{Wayne Manor}

December 24th,

The scratchy throat began hours before the discomfort of pounding aches in the temples made him crash onto enveloping covers - ashen features, watery eyes with tinges of darkness. Memories of Selina recessed in the depths of his mind as he fought the urge to pull himself up from this state of torment. The following hour of being stuck under a mass of drench covers, whatever had hit his immune system wasn't through.

Intense waves of feverish heat made his eyes block out the bright sunlight streaming through the closed curtains. He focused on nothing at the moment. His thoughts were consumed by frosty chills that crept into his bloodstream.

He closed his eyes again in search of a restful slumber.

"Miss Dawes is down stairs waiting for you, sir?" Alfred addressed, standing in the doorway watching his young master stir under the shroud of blankets. A groan of annoyance broke through the layer of covers as Bruce slowly opened his eyes.

"I'm not in the mood." The twenty-one year old grumbled as his throat throbbed.

Alfred shook his head. "When are you ever."

Bruce lifted the covers off his face and gave his butler an arctic stare at the comment.

"Sir, with all due respect, Miss Dawes is your friend. It's Christmas Eve. You should take the time and be thankful that you have a friend that cares about you."

Bruce released a despondent laugh as his expression turned doleful. "Friends." He growled as his mind gathered flashbacks of him and Thomas Elliot battling it out in the parking a lot. "Nothing but back stabbing suck ups to me." He was low-spirited instead of acting hopeful on this crisp day before Christmas. Cheerlessness was etched deeply through his pasty palsm.

"I am not going to sit here and watch you conceal that body of yours in the gloom that you have driven yourself into. I expect you to act a little more lighthearted. After all, it is Christmas. The season of giving and love."

Bruce rolled his eyes. "You know how I feel about Christmas, Alfred." There was uneasiness strapped in his vocal cords. "How can I enjoy this holiday season when I have no family."

Alfred's lips lightened. "What about that woman of you've been spending time with?"

"Selina,"

He nodded. "I thought you invited her over for Christmas. Unless your plans changed?"

"No. She is still coming, Alfred." Bruce unfolded the blankets off his drenched body. He carefully walked over to the window and looked at the light wisps of snow falling in the driveway. "Tell Rachel that I'll be down in a few." He could smell the stench of unwanted sweat under his arms. His hair was greasy and his eyes sore from the mindless blockage of pain pounding in his head.

"I need to take a shower and try to shake this headache."

Alfred nodded to his young master's instructions. "Maybe this Christmas will be different, sir. Just remember that there is always hope. Sometimes you have to look deeper."

Bruce considered his butler's words. "Alfred,"

The Englishman turned around. "Yes, Master Wayne?"

"What does a woman like as a gift?" Bruce asked, searching.

"There's the usual - Flowers, chocolates and jewelery. It depends on the woman."

Bruce smirked. "I need you to go into the city and get Selina something. Nothing too flashy but..." He pursed his lips. "Roses." He said thinking about the color of Selina's crimson lips. "Buy some roses."

"I'm on it, sir."

Alfred left the bedroom and cantered the stairwell.

* * *

Rachel Dawes was standing near a cupboard in the vast kitchen, flipping through the pages of Alfred's recipe book as Bruce entered with a gentle smile. His face was peaked, the glow of his warm complexion had dissolved into a livid shade. Bags of darkness could be seen under his almond shaped leaky eyes. Chapped lips parted. "You look well." He coughed trying to show no weakness to the fever's effects.

"Shouldn't you be with your mom?"

She nodded. "I'm heading out to her place soon." Her voice was faint as teal blue eyes gazed at him with strong driven emotion. "I can't say the same for you.." She addressed to his pasty features. "Here I thought the prince of Gotham never gets sick."

Bruce shake his head at her response. "Turns out that money can't buy you good health at this time of the season." He spoke dryly.

She gave a slight smile and then narrowed her eyes at her boots. "Bruce, about what happened the night of the dinner. I didn't mean to leave so suddenly." She felt her heart aching as her feet pulled themselves closer to him. "It's just that..." There was a lingering pause that rattled off the tip of her tongue.

"I want you know that I think Selina is a wonderful woman for you. I wish you all the happiness that you deserve." She leaned her head closer and gave him a kiss on the cheek as he felt a tear from her eye streamed down his neck.

He cupped her face with his sweaty hand as his butterscotch-evergreen forest greens fathom into her sadden gaze. "Rachel," His voice strangled to say the words that he needed to tell her. Instead he brushed her dark bangs off her forehead and gave a heated kiss on her brow.

His emotions were rising, throat burning as he took her arm and pulled her close to his chest. He wrapped her in a tight embrace. "Thank you for understanding how much she means to me..." He trailed off as Rachel broke free from his grasp.

She placed her gloved hand on his sharp cheek and looked deeply into his eyes. "Merry Christmas, Bruce." She turned to the doorway and placed her gloved hand on the smooth wooden frame. "What are you doing tonight?"

Bruce covered his mouth as he coughed. "Enduring this cold." He replied in a rasp as throbbing pain entered his temples. "Selina is coming around seven," He rubbed his throat as a grimacing expression formed onto his face. "She's spending Christmas here."

She gestured a nod and walked out into the hall.

* * *

Hours afterward...

Selina Kyle stood in the snow, barely feeling the chilling wind rattle through her bones as strands of her dark chocolate ginger streaked hair danced to the rhythmic beat of her pulsing emotions. She knew that Christmas was a time for family, love and hope.

All the things that she desired in this world. She swiped the tears from her eyes thinking that she was pathetic and praying in a silent way that Bruce wouldn't find her out in the snow crying. They remained stuck in the tear ducts of her shady eyes as mascara formed a wet line down her frozen cheek. She shook her head, fluttering her eye lashes as the depressed feeling subsided.

She stared off at the distance glow of Gotham City. Perfection of the night.

Her heart was thumping in her chest as the sound of taxi cabs wheels sliding on the sheet of ice made her cringe. Quickly, she marched up the steps with a brown paper bag tucked in her arm as green glass reflected off the light above the door. She took a deep breath and rung the door bell next to the expensive oak door. Her eyes looked anxious as the knob turned. She backed away suddenly feeling overwhelmed by the majesty of this castle known as Wayne Manor.

The door opened revealing a tall snow white haired man with rosy cheeks and twinkling pale wintery blue eyes. He smiled at her with a welcoming gesture. He studied her flawless features and was amazed at how strikingly beautiful she was to the eyes. "Miss Kyle," He stated in a cheery English accent. "Please do come in."

Selina entered, shaking the snow off her boots. "You must be Alfred," She said handing him the wine bottle. "Merry Christmas."

Alfred accepted the gift with a pleased smile. "Thank you. May I take your coat?"

Selina unzipped her jacket and handed it to the butler. "So where is he?" She asked peering in the shadows for any sign of Bruce. "Let me guess... looking in the mirror for another hour?"

"Quite so, Miss Kyle. Master Wayne is upstairs getting ready. He'll be down shortly."

She nodded. "Well I guess he likes keeping a girl waiting?" She moved to the bottom step. "Would you mind?"

Alfred smirked. "Be my guest."

* * *

Bruce stood in the master bedroom with a pair of denim jeans over his hips, droplets of excess water streamed off his back from the steamy hot shower he took moments ago after a short nap to suppress the symptoms that made his stomach churn and his nose stuffy.

Inhaling the steam relieved the pressure in his skull. He cleared his throat as he mounted his feet in front of a floor mirror. He studied his half-naked reflection as dimming sunlight was fading from window. His body was changing. His stomach appeared to be getting broad and callous as definition was forming on his fleshy tissue. To his astonishment, his chest pecks were becoming pronounced, showing indents of muscle as he exhaled.

His attention became captured by the sound of heels clicking from behind. Instantly he turned 360 degrees and stared at the alluring woman leaning her back against the door frame wearing a silk black sweater and jeans. Her hair was tied back in a French braided bun and her features carried a hint of blush on the apples of her cheeks, coffee-milk chocolate eyes trapped with a dark eye liner and smoky dark grey eyeshadow on her lids to the crease of her eyes. Her lips were glossy and the smell of body lotion with the scent of ginger cranberry ignited all his senses.

She curled her lips, burying her gaze at his body. It had been almost two weeks since they spent that night together in that ram-shacked apartment near old town district. She bit the bottom of her lips as her body shifted closer. "Your butler told me that I might find you up here."

"Selina, you should keep your distance from me. I am fighting the flu."

She quickly rolled her eyes. "Like that is going to stop me," She replied in a charging tone.

Bruce tried to reach for his white dress shirt but she was quick to the eye and attacked his lips before he made any attempt. There was a lightness as the nature they both shared was becoming carefree. The aches and pains from the feverish symptoms were fading into a distant memory. He had her in his room. In his family home and there was no other comfort or joy that could replace that feeling. Both hands slid down the curves of her hour glass shaped hips as he savored the heat rushing into his lungs.

He pulled her away and coughed. "I'm afraid I'm not going to be much good company tonight."

"When are you ever." She lightly teased brushing his hair back. "So whats your plans for this Christmas Eve - spending the rest of the night in the bedroom or going down stairs and enjoying this night with..." She paused as he osculated lightly on the edge of her mouth.

Selina back away and grabbed the dress shirt. "Get dressed, Wayne. The night is young and so are we." She threw the shirt at him and sat on the edge of the bed waiting with patience as he covered his rich skin with cotton and buttoned up to the collar.

Bruce turned his gaze to the window as the snow was thickening outside, it was going to make it difficult for her to leave without getting sucked into a ditch somewhere. He smirked at the idea of that fashion inside his cunning mind. She was going to stay with him. That's what he wanted. "Looks like you might have to spend the night?"

She shrugged nonchalantly. "I don't mind."

* * *

Ten minutes later...

Bruce guided Selina into the dining room where they found Alfred setting down white porcelain plates with red dinner napkins. A centerpiece of poinsettias was in the middle of the stained oak table. Candles were burning and the fireplace was lit.

Soft Christmas music from Gotham's Radio station was playing in the background.

"Alfred," Bruce greeted in a warm voice as he held Selina's hand.

The Englishman turned around with a gentle beam. He never missed a beat to Bruce's clear voice tone. "I've been wondering when you two would come down, Master Wayne. I thought I would prepare a little supper for the occasion," He said dryly. "Come and sit down before your dinner gets cold."

Bruce glanced sideways to Selina. "Shall we, Miss Kyle?" He acted formal.

"Whatever you say, Mr. Wayne." She returned as he glided her shifty to the chair that Alfred had pull out for her.

Bruce looked at Alfred. "I don't think you've gotten a proper introduction." He said.

"Master Wayne, you really don't have to introduce us. Supper is already starting to cool off because of your formalities."

"Alfred Pennyworth," Bruce said, "this is Selina Kyle. Selina, this is Alfred my loyal butler and good friend."

Alfred's cheeks went rosy as he gently shook Selina's hand. "It is a pleasure to finally know your full name, Miss Kyle."

"Likewise , Mr. Pennyworth." She smiled.

Bruce clasped his hands together. "Now that we all know each other. Let's eat." He sat down feeling less groggy and more alert thanks to that infused kiss Selina gave him upstairs. He straightened his back and gazed at Selina as she sat in her chair with elegance. Alfred handed her a piece of white meat from the carved goose and then placed roasted potatoes on her plate. She gestured a nod and waited for Bruce to receive his food.

Once Alfred was done serving, he moved to the doorway but Selina stopped him. "And where do you think your going, Mr. Pennyworth?"

He turned around with tender eyes. "I must return to the kitchen and prepare dessert." He stated plainly.

Selina shook her head. "Not on my watch. It's Christmas you should be with family." She looked at Bruce as his darken eyes fell to his lap. She used a boot and pulled out a chair. "Sit down." She ordered. "You shouldn't spend this night alone."

"Very well," Alfred sat down and leaned over to Bruce. "A very demanding girlfriend you have sir."

Bruce kept his mouth closed.

Selina bit into a potato. "He should be so lucky." She gave the butler a wink.

Alfred chuckled at her fast acting wit. "I think you're a remarkable woman, Miss Kyle."

"Well ... some people don't think so," She answered sullenly, thinking about Stan, Ginger and Alberto Falcone.

The ground was crumbling beneath her feet. She had no way out of this predicament she had driven herself into. Ginger was going to have that baby and become just another attention to the graveyard. More women her age were going to become victims of mankind's pleasure trove. She still had to figure out who was the mastermind behind the whole operation that Falcone confessed to her.

So many details to work through and so little time, she thought. The most conflicting thought was telling Bruce Wayne the truth that she was in love with him. Not lusting nor believing him to be a way out of this mess. Her heart was slain by his passion, those lips and all the tiny details that made him into the perfect knight of her so-called fairytale life.

All she could do was survive.

* * *

Selina gazed out at the flawless crystal white world behind the massive structure of Wayne Manor as she listened to Bruce zip up his winter Nike hooded jacket. He stepped from the sliding door and onto the first step of the stairs that lead to the center of the garden. To the area where stood the boarded up well that he fell down into as a child.

"Catch me if you can," She challenged as she bolted to the slope hill and stepped into the thick snow. Bruce raced down after her. He lunged forward, pouncing on her with a feverish dare to his face. She landed into the snow, long strands of hair became free from the tight fitted bun as he pinned his body on top of hers.

"What took you?" She teased, scooping a palm of snow off and throwing it into his face.

She slipped underneath his frame and rolled into the blank of wintery delight. For once in her life she was having real fun. Childish playfulness had come on them both as he grasped her arms and pulled her to his chest, locking her elbows as he found the right slippery stop and slid down. She laughed.

"Aren't you worried that you're going to have a frozen butt?"

"Not really," Bruce answered. "I don't mind the cold." He managed to breathe out as they hit the bottom and tumbled into the deep snow. Both of them landed face down as Selina rolled onto her back.

Bruce crawled over to her, pinned her wrists down and moved with rapid speed before she could break free. He pressed his lips onto hers, leading her into a tranquil moment as everything became still. She moaned deeply as he slowed at her pace, tracing his curled tongue not caring if she contracted his symptoms.

She knew that he would take care of her. The once well guarded young woman was melting, allowing him to break the chains that imprisoned her heart.

His hands became glissade as they moved down her back and lower - over the curves of her covered hips, he rocked his body back and forth as the kiss was deepening further into fiery passion like never before.

She felt the heat as steam was coming off his body, dark locks were wet with sweat as he moved his lips down to the lines of her thin neck and sucked the flesh as eyes closed shut.

Selina reeled up and rested her face on his chest as he dandled her body into a toasty enfold. She had no idea what hour of the night it was. Both of them were completely in a blissful state of mind. Both of them unable to move away from each others bodies as surges of powerful adoration were unwilling to pull away. Every breath was a sign that they were alive as he lifted her above his well-proportioned shoulders.

"Selina," His voice allowed her name to slip between his lips. He was making the effort to confess to her. His tongue was becoming tied up with realization that he about to confess the bonafide truth to the woman he was in love with. He steadily swallowed his words as saliva dripping down the walls of his throat.

Bruce held her hips as she leaned her head backwards taking every moment in. He twirled his body around, spinning both of them as she loosened her body. She felt the freedom as an overcast of snow surrounding them and they welcomed both hearts to the winter wonderland that was the gardens of Wayne Manor.

She cradled his frost bitten face in between her gloved hands as eyes narrowed into his scorching gaze, with all the honesty that her ingenious mind could muster up as her body felt tepid in his vigorous arms. Flurries landed mildly on her lips.

"Bruce," She tried to say as he kissed her again. "Handsome." Words broke from her mouth. "I need to tell you something... I lo..."

Bruce settled her to ground level and pulled out a red rose from a inner pocket of his jacket. "Selina,"

"Yes... yes." She breathed as her lips grazed the corner of his mouth.

Finally he blared out the words into the air. "Selina Kyle," He placed the rose in an entwine of her thick hair and kissed her gently on the forehead. "I love you." His voice confessed as he felt her arms wrap around his neck. They were examples of dark tragedies and loss of innocence. Tonight they found something to share.

"So I guess you can finally say that I'm your girlfriend?" She smiled.

Bruce felt the sensation of her love creep into the windows of his shut-in soul. He looked into the lagoon of her eyes and smirked. "Girlfriend?" He liked the sound of that word. Maybe things were going to be different in his life.

The glass doors slid open, Alfred stepped into the airy snow and called out. "Master Wayne, shouldn't you be returning to indoors. You don't want your cold getting worse."

"Everything is fine, Alfred." Bruce yelled as he cradled Selina to his chest. "Just fine."

Alfred formed a wide smile. "Very good, Master Wayne."


	8. Chapter 8 : January Tension

**Chapter 8 : January Tension**

* * *

{Gotham General}

A pair of copper-milk chocolate eyes entrenched as soft cries rehashed into the shades of shadow projecting off the walls. Slight discomfort etched her delicate features as the colors citron, bitter-sweet apricot and magenta became entwined to the mass of her thick chocolatey hair. Recessing memories of her own darken days that bleakly haunted her as she tried to divide reality into fantasy of her gray world. Reality to her logic was finding herself being in the same position of the ashen form of her friend shivering under the white covers. Fantasy was escaping this life with Bruce Wayne; going anywhere she wanted and taking whatever she desired. Nothing could help her graying spirits as her watchful gazed shifted.

She scuffed her heated emotions off like dirt on her thigh high heel leather boots. Staring at the lucid form of Ginger Robinson made her come to terms that her friend had no chance of escaping the dark days ahead. It was the stabbing truth brewing within her shadowy soul that that the woman lying in the hospital bed with tubes sticking out of her arms was going to be another victim to society's underclass graveyard.

She swallowed the tightness in her throat as Ginger haltingly flicked open her eyes and turned to face the watchful glare of eighteen-year old Selina Kyle sitting on the window ledge with her knees to her chest. She rested her head against the plastic blinds and sighed a low pitch. During the hours before nightfall, Selina would make her rounds into Ginger's hospital room while trying to hold back conflicting thoughts about caring for the growing baby that was living inside her friend's womb.

Selina leaned her back onto the wall and closed her eyes.

"How long have you been here?" Ginger managed to say as her breath was decreasing from the oxygen mask.

"Long enough." Selina pointed out. She was not one to feel sorry for people but this was different. The blood infection known as sepsis was coursing through Ginger's veins as feverish symptoms were spiking. "How are you feeling?" Those words were biting into her throat. "I spoke with the doctor and you said that the baby might be premature because of the infection." She shook her head. "Damn Ginge, you really have hit the deep end."

Ginger had tears flowing down her colorless cheeks. "I had an ultrasound yesterday."

Selina straighten. "Ultrasound?" She looked puzzled. "Why the hell didn't you tell me last night?"

"I didn't think that you would care." Ginger hoarsely answered.

Hearing those words made Selina's expression turned as black as shadow. "I care." The hues of her eyes became smoky as the sickening truth throbbed through her bones. She hugged her arms protectively over her chest. "So want did you find out from the test?" Her cheek twitched, waiting for a response.

"I found out that the baby is a girl." Ginger answered in a faint tone. "I'm four months pregnant, Selina. Which means I only have five months..." Her voice trailed off as her teeth gritted together. "This is my punishment for my sins. I've made a lot of mistakes in my life... and I let my daughter know about them."

Selina narrowed her eyes. "Just like I can't let Bruce Wayne know about mine." She smacked her crimson blades together. "Well... I'll see you around," and quickly grabbed her purse and bolted for the door.

"Selina," Ginger breathed. "Sometimes our sins can be swept away."

Selina understood her friend's meaning. She stood in the doorway. "Not if it's an original sin, Ginge." Her umbrous eyes looked directly at the baby bump underneath the blankets. All she desired right now was Bruce's warm embrace to overpower her raging emotions. Everything was impermanent to her world. This friendship she kindled with Ginger was not a lasting one. Soon she would staring at the gravestone allowing wetness to stream down her cheeks.

Redden lips parted and released a disheartened edgy voice.

"I'll see you around... maybe."

* * *

{Wayne Manor}

Bruce was ascending up the staircase; the coolness of the empty house rattled his bones as his hand grasped the sleek railing. His mind regressed the memories of his father carrying his fearful eight year-old body up these very steps to mend his bones. His eyes narrowed down the dust cloths that covered most of the furniture that he rendered to be useless.

Alfred was looking tense. "I prepared some supper; it's waiting in the kitchen for you, Master Wayne." He addressed as the twenty-one year old turned his head and gave him an impending stare as a looming emotion was rising.

"I'm taking Selina out tonight." He responded.

Alfred was stern with his tone. "With all due respect, sir, you've been avoiding the responsibilities in your life. Wayne Enterprises is your father's company and you are the heir to his legacy. Don't destroy the promising future that waits for you."

"Future," Bruce scoffed. "There is no future in this hell hole of a city, Alfred. If I'm lucky, I might live up to the same age as my father before he died." He snapped coldly. "Or maybe they will find a body of an heir to Wayne Enterprises rotting in a gutter."

Alfred's eyes became widen with bewilderment. "Master Wayne, listen yourself..."

"Why do you give a damn, Alfred?" His lips curled into a scowl. "It's not your life."

"It's the life that your parents wanted for you. You just need guidance."

Bruce became irritated with his butler's words.

"No, Alfred that is not the life I want." His ginger-forest green hues gestured to the vast hallway down below his structures that had sheltered six generations of his family. Successful Wayne's that had found to ways of improving this city. "This house is not where I want to spend the rest of my days. It's a mausoleum. A grim reminder of everything that was taken from me." His nostrils were flaring as his jaw clasped. "And when I have my way, I'll pull this whole damn structure down. Brick by brick."

Alfred shook his head showing his chagrin to his young master's harden feelings of his family's dynasty.

"This is your house, Master Wayne..." There was vexation rising in his voice as his pale wintery blue eyes met the pools of remorseful shadow of the young man standing a few inches away. All the old butler could see was the pain imbedded within the pupils. "Has sheltered six generations of your family, sir. And it has stood patiently while you converted in and out of your schools. As have I."

Bruce glared at Alfred, his eyes blazing as he looked chastened. He marched further up the stairs shifting to the master bedroom as Alfred followed wanting to conclude his conversion with hopeful words to his regretful master.

"Sir," he called out.

Bruce angled himself to look at his butler. The waves of his lips created deep indents as he surveyed the man that watched over him all the years of his life. His gaze slanted trying to conceive the right words to say.

Alfred's eyes become teary as his withered lips produced softer words. "The Wayne Family legacy holds great meaning to his city. You may think only with your stubbornness that it has no purpose to your life, but you are Gotham's favored son. The sole heir to your father's compassion and promises to the people of this city."

Bruce's eyes fell. "I will never be my father," he dejected. "I'm sorry that I have disappointed you, Alfred." His upper lip enveloped his bottom lip as his mouth formed into a frown. His butler placed his hand on one of his broad shoulders.

"Master Wayne... I was by your father's side when he watched you come into his world. And I was by your side when we both watched him being laid to rest."

"I know." Bruce answered in a catching voice. "You've always been there."

"Your father was a great man, Master Wayne. But I have confidence that you will exceed his greatest. Remember, great men aren't measured by the strength of their own power but by the strength of their heart."

The twenty-one year old became crestfallen as he lowered his soulful gaze. He lifted his chin up and stared with hopeful eyes as the reflections of the sunlight streaming from the window became captured as the darkness of his sorrow faded showing Alfred that there still was still light in his tortured soul. "You still haven't given up on me?" He gulped down.

Alfred smiled a reassuring smile as his eyes crinkled. "Never," He answered with defiance and walked away.

Bruce was closemouthed as his mind was searching. "Thank you old, friend." He whispered.

* * *

As the midnight hour approached, light drizzle sprinkled through the narrow back alley while the melodies of the city night life babbled from the traffic on the main streets. The weary citizens harvested their own fears as they walked along the sidewalks, holding their heads held high as looming shadows were forming in the dark corners. The nightly patrolmen of GCPD were cruising to the streets, scanning every area that reeked of infested criminality. There were many types of people that lived through the hardships that this dingy city offered.

In the restless eyes of Jim Gordon, he saw the truth. This city was broken. Justice had become blinded by falsehoods and lies and he was the only police officer that believed in fairness. He leaned his body against the stair railing of his apartment and allowed the soft hands of his fiance Barbara to dig deep into his harden muscles.

He turned his head and gazed into the gentle hues of her olive-green eyes as his nostrils caught a whiff of the roasted chicken heating up in the microwave. He stiffened his spine and listened to the sirens wailing through the streets. He prayed that his pager wouldn't beep in his pants pocket. His lungs filled with air as he exhaled an unnerving sigh.

Barbara caught the tone of her tired fiance. "Jim?" The softness of her voice was comforting to his weary spirit. "What's wrong?"

"Mmmm... nothing Barb. Just the workload that Carl Loeb piled onto me is starting to catch up - physically and emotionally."

She shook her head. "I don't understand why you even put with of this, Jim. I mean you can find another position in another city. What about Metropolis? I heard that's a less stressful city to work." Gordon turned around and encircled his arms around her trim waist. "Tell me that you will at least think about it?" She managed to say as she pulled back to his broad chest.

"No, Barbara. I'm staying in Gotham." He answered remembering the reason why he chose to endure all the trials of working for law-enforcement; thirteen years before Carmine Falcone had this city bought and paid for with his underground drug empire reign that flooded the streets, creating more desperate people to ravage through the filth that the city supplied.

The bristles of his mustache brushed against his upper lip. "Thirteen years ago, I looked into a little an eight year-old's eyes and saw fear and grief. The outcome of the merciless crime that he witnessed." He paused. "He was holding onto his father's jacket as his cheeks were wet with tears. So I did what any good human being would do... I took the jacket and pulled it over his shoulders. He looked at me and I looked at him with a reassuring smile that things were going to alright." He swallowed his words. "Things will get better in Gotham." His passive gray cobalt eyes lifted to the cloud cover above. "People just need a symbol of hope to believe in, Barb."

She nodded, reaching an agreement and pressed her lips tenderly against his.

That was her reassurance for him.

* * *

Across town...

Water sloshed over plain heels. It was a hellish day - filing case files of court orders, murder trails and police documents. Not an exciting day to boast about. She tried to conceal the vexation of her job placement that dragged her restless spirit down each time she unlocked her office door. The calmness of the monorail's wheels sliding on the tracks above made her feel leery as she advanced further to the crosswalk, holding her purse tightly under her left underarm, not realizing that a pair of steely sea-water blue eyes were glaring at her from the umbra near the alleyway.

She was a blurry vision to the dazed beholder as his eyes were glazed. Scorching lips produced a accursed serpentine expression of an unhallowed form. Her gentle features had become an entrancing vision to the corrupted thoughts of Thomas Elliot. He closed in on his prey with looming movements as his body reeked of booze. He narrowed his glossy eyes down at the sleekness of her legs.

"Rachel," his voice murmured. "What are you doing walking these streets alone at this hour? Don't you know that people get mugged during the after-hours?"

Rachel remained guarded as her teal blue eyes shifted over her shoulder to stare at her childhood friend. "Thomas," she gasped as her vocal cords rattled. "I didn't know that you were there?" She was suddenly shocked by his appearance. "Why are you here?"

"Just came to walk you back home, Rachel." He answered. "I'm sorry for the way I've been acting towards Bruce. He is a good friend..." There was a lingering pause almost like he was covering up his true emotions for the twenty-one year old heir to Wayne Enterprises. "It was wrong of me to say those things about Selina." He pulled closer reaching out his hand to grasp her arm. "How is Bruce doing?"

Rachel backed away, keeping her distance as her nostrils burned from the stench of his intoxicated body. "Bruce is fine. Selina and him are now a couple. They've been together for almost a month now."

She was unsettled with her words as her mind regressed on the close moment that she shared with the young billionaire in the kitchen of Wayne Manor. There were so many unspoken words that needed to be said between them. She cherished Bruce's heart from when he was just a freckled face best friend that found an arrowhead in the garden where she had watched him fall into the dark well; nearly fatally injuring himself. She stood by watching him become engulfed in the shadows of his own grief and failures.

That's all she was to Bruce. An honest friend that would always be there for him whenever he fell and needed help to pick himself up again. "Selina..." Her voice trialed off as she felt Thomas' hand firmly clasp her right arm. He leaned closer and without warning, attacked her quivering lips, sucking the breath out of her lungs. Tongue slid over her teeth.

"Thomas!" She managed to blare out. "This is not like you. Cut it out!"

Thomas laughed as he unlocked his lips. "What's wrong Rachel? Not as sweet as Brucie's lips?" He teased with an infusing urge to tug into her mass of straighten auburn hair. "That's what you want? To feel his inviting lips on yours just like like how he kisses Selina Kyle." Thomas grip on her became rougher and callous as he refused to allow her to leave.

"No," Rachel slammed her heel into his foot as he pressed into her neck. "Get away from me!" Pacing her breath, Rachel reached into the confinements of her purse and pulled out her cellphone, her fingers dialed 911 as he was charging closer with a glint in his hazy eyes. She held the phone to her ear and waited for a response. "Please somebody pick up!" Her breath was faint as she backed further back against a brick wall. She was trapped into his fervid arms as he locked her into an embrace.

Thomas pushed his body against hers, making his pelvis touch her thighs. "Come on, Rachel I know that you have fight in you. Give it to me." His voice slurred as she jabbed her knee into his groin. He winced and then laughed. "That's my good girl."

Rachel shoved Thomas back and scrambled to put as much distance between them as possible as she waited for her call to get through. She was received no reply as she an automated message answered only to put her on hold. She rolled her eyes with displeasure and dialed one more number that was listed on her cell's screen.

"Get back here, Rachel! We're not done!" Thomas' angry voice echoed down the alley.

"Come on pick up..." Rachel listened to the ringing and felt relief when Alfred Pennyworth's rich English accent answered.

"Good evening, Wayne Manor."

"Alfred, it's Rachel. Is Bruce there?!" Her tone distraught as she glanced around the corner to see Thomas heading in her direction.

"Afraid not, Miss Dawes." Alfred answered. "Master Wayne left the Manor about an hour ago. He's spending the night with Miss Kyle. Is everything alright?" He detected the distress in her voice.

Rachel closed her eyes, restraining her distraught emotions beginning to take a hold of her. "I-It's Thomas he's... I'm in trouble." She breathed harshly as Elliot's hand whipped the cellphone away.

"Calling for your knight in shining armor, Rachel?" He bedeviled.

* * *

{Park Row}

The fuchsia tinge glow that the restless city illuminated reflected into the misty sky above with mixtures of deep orange; the dimness of the obscurity sculpted over Bruce's sharpened features as he stood in the light drizzle, allowing his fiery eyes to gaze into the narrow litter-filled alley. The stench of urban decay gathered in his nostrils as he inhaled his frustrations. He could feel his blood pulsing into his veins as hands tightened into fists.

"It's my fault." He whispered with a strangled breath. "If I hadn't gotten scared by the bats ..."His thoughts drifted at the chime from his cell tucked into his jackets pocket. He quickly reacted. "Hello?" He answered listening to his butlers voice. "Rachel is in trouble." His ginger-emerald gray hues widened as his phone lowered. "Thomas..." He stepped further away from the alley, and shifted to the direction that would lead him to Rachel's uptown apartment that was a few blocks from the monorail station.

The orange effulgence of the street light cast over the left side of his face as his curvy lips parted, releasing his fervent exhalation.

Bruce made his decision and darted down the sidewalk, water puddles splashed his pant legs as he charged on the glazed pavement trying to keep his exasperation towards Thomas Elliot compacted.

* * *

The temperature had dipped a few degrees as Rachel found herself entwined within Thomas's shapely arms as he pressed his lips against her neck. She had nothing in her purse to help fight him - no teaser or pepper spray. Her teal bluish eyes gazed into the shady hues of Thomas'. He looked possessed as his hands seized the flesh of her collar bone. "Thomas listen to me , I know that you're drunk." She wheezed out. "You're a good man."

Thomas released a groveling laugh. "That's problem, Rachel. Sometimes good men can be wolves in sheep's clothing."

Her eyes widened as he began to unbutton her purple blouse. "Thomas... please don't do this." She pleaded. She could feel the coldness of his hands ridging onto her flesh. His finger tips aiming for her breasts. She closed her eyes as lines of tears streamed down her face. "I'm your friend!" She cried. He wouldn't relent. "And this is assault!" She screamed into his ear. "You'll go to jail once they..."

"Once they what?" He growled, raising his voice as he was ready to strike her jaw. A hand latched onto his and squeezed tightly.

"Get away from her," A deep monotone voice bellowed from the shadows.

He smirked. "I was wondering when you were going to show that pretty face of yours, Wayne." He twisted his body and rammed a fist into Bruce's jaw knocking the billionaire to the ground from the impact. "Always the chivalrous one aren't you?"

Bruce slowly got back onto his face, blood was caking the bottom of his lip. He winced as his eyes looked at Rachel's battered form, her top was loose and four buttons opened. Eye shadow was smeared around the creases of her eyes and her body quaking. "Rachel," he called out in a growling tone. His hand wiped the blood as it stained his rounded chin.

"Come on Wayne, get up. Don't be a damn coward like your old man."

Hearing those words triggered something within Bruce's body. He dodged Thomas's next blow and allowed the umbrage brewing inside to drive his fist into Thomas's jaw. Thomas staggered, surprised by the force of the blow but it vanished in a moment and was replaced with rage. He rushed at his former friend, attempting a football tackle. Bruce cringed as he felt his back collide with the brick wall, but instead of allowing a lapse he secured one of his arms around Thomas' waist in the hold and brought his knee up to Thomas' torso. Hard.

Thomas grunted at the blow, his grip around Bruce's waist faltering a moment which allowed Bruce to drive his elbow down against Thomas' spine. He grappled his friend's waist and flung him off to the side. "You son of a b!tch!" Thomas ground out, staggering to his feet. Bruce held his fists ready. Thomas tried a haymaker to the face. Bruce dodged and countered with a fist to the stomach.

Thomas withheld the pain of the blow and channeled it into his aggression, connected a well aimed elbow to Bruce's jaw. Bruce blinked away the stinging sensation and held both wrists in a crossed motion to block Thomas' head butt. Bruce kneed him again, then lashed with a fist to his torso, sending him back a few steps. Bruce followed up with a vicious swing to the jaw. Thomas spat blood from a cut on his lip. Sensing his advantage to end this, Bruce grabbed Thomas and swung him off to the side against a dumpster.

Bruce turned to Rachel, wanting to assess his friend's condition. Thomas slowly regained his feet, eying an empty liquor bottle on the ground. Bruce could see the horrified look on Rachel's face.

"Look out, Bruce!"

Bruce turned at the last moment and managed to catch Thomas' arm. In his hand he carried a liquor bottle he picked up. He attempted to bash Bruce's head from behind. Bruce and he bared their teeth at each other like angry animals - grunting and in Thomas' case, cursing his former best friend.

"I've had enough of you, Wayne!"

Bruce felt the feeling was mutual as he brought his foot down against Thomas', then connected with a headbutt to the head. He wrenched his arm free and wrestled the bottle out of Thomas' hand. Thomas, choosing an underhanded tactic, aimed between Bruce's legs. Bruce felt winded but mostly enraged. He used the bottle and bashed Thomas across the side of the head, sending him in a daze to the ground.

"Is this what you've sunk to, Thomas?!" Bruce roared, gesturing to Rachel over his shoulder who helplessly watched both men pummel each other. "Attacking our oldest friend just to make yourself feel better? She's done nothing to you!"

"Clearly, I have no friends!" Thomas spat. His eyes taking on a malicious glint. A cut had formed on the side of his head, and a trickle of blood began to seep down over his face.

Bruce ignored his injuries as he faced him.

"If you ever touch Rachel or Selina..." His teeth gritted together. "I'll be your worst nightmare." The raging monster inside was aching to be unleashed. He charged at Thomas, wedging his elbow into the man's chest as he pushed him towards the brick wall and pinned him, allowing his former friend to see the hidden torment within the hues of his almond shaped eyes. "Get out of my sight."

Thomas stiffened his body and used his sleeve to wipe the trickling blood. "This is not over, Wayne. I know who your heart belongs too. One day I'm going to rip it out." He threatened coldly.

Bruce's lips quirked displaying a scowl. "You're not my friend anymore. You're dead to me." He snarled, releasing his grip and stepped back. Thomas slowly left the alley. Bruce moved to a stricken Rachel. His hand touched her shoulder as he looked tenderly into her teary eyes. "You alright?" He rasped.

She nodded and gripped his arm. "Thank you, Bruce."

He returned with a gentle nod. "Let's get out here."

* * *

{Old Town}

Selina slanted her back against the stair-well railing of her Old-Town apartment as she allowed the droplets of the vertical down pour to drench her cream-colored body. There were the occasional needle prick drops that hit her flesh making it feel numb with the inflicting pain. She slammed her eyes shut and took an exhale to unlock the frustration scorching inside her stricken shell.

Seething thoughts were gathering as the sound of shoes dragging on the glazed pavement drove her to fluttered her mascara caked eye lashes and shifted her body to find a soaked Bruce Wayne standing on the bottom step, dressed in a black hooded sweater. His drenched strands of dark burnish chocolate hair were parted to the left side of his face as wet bangs concealed his eye. A thin line of crimson was streaming from his bottom plump lip.

She shook her head. "Let me guess - another fight with the members of the Ivy League." She coaxed descending the steps. She could feel the rain clogging her pores as her lungs filled with the misty air. "Or did you slip and fall on your a-s-s again?" She tried to bury the conversation she shared with Ginger into her angtsy spirit.

Bruce could see right through her masked poise as he watched her give an icy glare to the shadows that surrounded them.

"No," Was his reply as he could feel his blood boiling.

A smoldering expression swept across his face. Selina paused, trying to keep her distance from him as she noticed the scowl forming on his lips. Before she could say a few words, he came after her, wrapped his arms around her slender waist and held her close to his pulsing chest. She leaned back into his embrace allowing his hands to guide her down as he plants his backside on the steps, being unnerved as the rain cloaked both of their bodies. He dropped his balmy lips onto her sizzling cheek as his chest rumbled.

She knew that he was keeping his feelings locked up as her flesh felt the softness of his lips. This was his way of releasing the inner rage that was clouding his mind with vile images of Thomas Elliot and the pressure that was forcing him to believe that there was hope for his future. He had his reasons to express affection to her - he was in love with her. He know that some days wouldn't come easy, and some days wouldn't come hard as he breathed in the fire her body composed.

Selina lowered her head into his lap as his hand stroked her drenched hair. Her eyes were burning as the mascara was dripping from her eye lashes into the corners of her optical organs. Lips smirked at the sheer pleasure she was experiencing. The rain was starting to become an annoyance.

"Want to get out the rain?" She asked as his lips persisted down the side of her neck.

"I don't mind the rain," he said when his lips finally became unstuck.

"Well I do," she reeled herself up, sliding her hands through her thick mass of hair as his hand touched the back of her neck. "Besides we'll have more privacy." One finger touched the crease of lips. "Come on, handsome. We've stayed in the rain too long." She straightened and climbed the steps heading to the balcony door. He followed her like a shadow as his hand pushed the glass door opened.

She reached to the bedside lamp of her cramped apartment.

"Leave it," He rasped, standing near the window as he pulled off his soaked sweater and threw it across the floor. "I don't mind the dark."

Selina looked directly at his shapely body with her steady pools of copper-chocolate, curly strands of her hair sculpted the left side of her face. "Oh really? This is coming from a guy that dreads a little bat." She teased pulling out a drawer from her dresser and grabbing a pair of her thin legged sweat pants. "I guess everyone has fears."

Bruce advance closer. "Than what do you fear, Selina?"

She raised her eyebrow. "I guess I fear what most people dread." Her tone became a pitch lower as his hand grasped her upper arm. Her eyes fell and her breath became shaky.

"Alright... I fear dying alone." She confessed.

His arms tightened around her as his eyes became honest, showing her his own pain as his lips were expressed in a firm line. "I think there's more to you than that."

She bit her bottom lip. "I always let a lot of people down from the mistakes I've made." She lifted her gaze to the ceiling. "And I've made a lot of mistakes that I've even lost count." She stated bleakly.

He looked at her with piercing chroma of emerald gray. She noticed that his eye color was changing, becoming more enticing as only tints of ginger could be seen around his pupils. Her hand touched his pronounced chest pecks as she felt the thumping of his heart beat. His torso was shuttering shaky breaths as his lips detached.

"I've made mistakes too..." He breathed out.

She gave a slight smile. "Than I guess we're both suckers, handsome." Her hands grabbed both sides of his face and drew him closer to her fleshy lips. She drew him into a heated kiss as he closed his eyes and allowed her to guide him into her beauty.

Bruce saw only spectrum of shadow as his bare chest felt the firmness of her breasts.

"Just a little further," she managed to say as she dove into the bed and brought him down with her. His torso filled with the stuffy air as he cradled her face and began to suck into her parted lips. He kissed with a driven passion as she released a breath of satisfaction. "Staying the night, rich boy?"

Bruce lifted his chin and smirked.

"Yeah." He released with a flushed look. "We've got tonight. Who needs tomorrow." He scoffed his vexations and assaulted her lips once more as his arms enfolded her. "I love you so much." His tongue curled as he listened to her breath pacing. He wanted to claim her has his own. No more inward denial of his feelings. She was the gray shade of his black and white world.

His locked down soul was reopening. This beautiful woman lying underneath his thick form was the key to his freedom.

Bruce's face suddenly darkened by the sound of sirens of the patrol cars zooming through the streets. He knew that changes were coming to this city. He wanted to escape with Selina; become drifters to the thrills the world had to offer. Something in his soul was pulling to the afterglow that Gotham created behind the glass windows of his girlfriend's apartment.

Night was calling for him.

The question was engulfing into his listless thoughts like the bats in the shafts of the well of which he fell into: Would he answer?


	9. Chapter 9 :Valentine's Heat

**Chapter 9 : Valentine's Heat**

* * *

{Wayne Manor}

February 14th,

The streams of morning sunlight gleamed off youthful skin as lungs inhaled the stuffy air; breathing in the determination that swept over his body, giving him the strength. Thick muscles sculpted his body - no longer soft baby flesh. Sweat dripped from dangling bangs that formed on his drenched forehead. He continued pushing himself to the limit; not giving up. He showed no discomfort to the wintery scenery that produced spectrum's of light from the glass bedroom window. Muscles breathed in the passion that drove through his shell. His abdomen grew tight as the burning pull in his chest ignited.

Bruce performed a rep of jump push-ups, head facing down, sloped arrow nose aligned with the groves of the floor. His wavy lips parted as he steadied his pace, feeling the pulsing blood rush in his veins making biceps grow tingly with new found energy.

Taking a few deep inhales then exhaling, he lifted himself off the floor and moved to the floor standing mirror. He studied his half naked-visage. His stomach wasn't flabby with cushioned flesh anymore. The definition of a six-pack was slightly showing on his glistened abdomen. He was dumbfound towards his appearance as he turned his body to look at the side profile of his transformation. His chest pecks were full of hard flesh matching the curved line of his rib-cage all the way down to his waist line. His neck had grown thick with muscle and his freckled planes were strengthened.

Bruce bashed his eyes shut for a moment and took everything inward. Even though he was becoming fit with endurance and perseverance, there was always the cloak of grief that blanketed his soul. He darted his eyes open and slowly moved to a dresser that carried picture frames on top of its surface. He lifted and stared at a silver framed photograph of him at a young age on his father's shoulders; arms raised in triumph with his mother holding his back for support. He used his thumb to wipe off the dust from the photograph and then smiled at the memory.

{Flashback}

_Childhood laughter broke through the calm summer breeze as a seven-year old Bruce Wayne mounted his body on his father's shoulders while the crashing waves of the ocean bashed against Thomas Wayne's knees. He smiled as he tipped his back, threatening to drop his son into the water._

_ "Daddy," Bruce broke out in a panic as he held on to his father's shoulders. "Don't let me fall."_

_ "Bruce," Thomas reassured. "I will never let you go." He turned his head and looked at his wife Martha standing on the shore, preparing their lunch on a blanket spread out across the sand. "Never."_

{End of Flashback}

Bruce moved to the bed and sat down on the edge. Tears were forming in the pools of his emerald gray ginger eyes. He lowered his head as he tried to keep all of his dismays concealed. He allowed a warm tear to stream down his jagged cheek as the sound of Joe Chill's gun banged into the intense waves of his thoughts. His hand squeezed into a fist.

He closed his eyes, trying to compress his raging thoughts. The sound of footfalls drove his attention to the doorway to gaze at his snow-white haired butler with a breakfast tray.

"I trust that you had a restful sleep, Master Wayne?" Alfred gingerly asked, walking to the nightstand. Bruce shrugged his shoulders. "I prepared a little breakfast for you."

Bruce silently nodded in return.

Alfred sensed that his young master was in distress. "Is everything alright, Master Wayne?" he asked with a concerned look in his wintery blue eyes. "You've been awfully quiet these pass few days. Keeping to yourself more than usual."

"Why do you give a damn, Alfred?" Bruce ejected with a slight snarl. His eyes flashed with anger. "This is my life and I can do whatever the hell I want with it."

Alfred sighed.

"This is not the life that your parents wanted you to live." He pointed out. "You're acting careless while still involved with your lady friend, Miss Kyle. You need to start planning for your future, Master Wayne. Do you think that she is going to stay with you when you don't even have a good head on those shoulders of yours." He continued. "I grow tired of these conversations we share but if it is the only way to make you understand that you need to start having a balance in your life."

Bruce clenched his jaw. "I don't have a life, Alfred. It was taken from me. Remember?"

Alfred nodded grimly. "I do, Master Wayne." He let a pause linger between them. "Do you think your parents would be happy seeing you like this? A reckless self-centered young man that holds no point in living except for the moments he shares with a young woman that he met on the streets."

Bruce became infused with cold fury. "How dare you use Selina to make me change my ways, Alfred." he growled. " In a few months I'm bailing out of Gotham permanently with her."

"Well that is real mature of you, Master Wayne. Two young people with nothing traveling the world. How do you intend to survive? To put clothes on your back?" he gazed at Bruce sadly. "What if Miss Kyle gets pregnant? Are you willing to take on that responsibility to raise a child?"

"I'll do whatever it takes, Alfred." Bruce erupted. "Can't you understand that there is nothing here for me." He crossed his arms over his bare-chest. "Just pain."

Alfred moved closer to his twenty-one year old master. "I just want you to be happy. But if this is what you in want in life, then I will have no say in your decisions." He swallowed. "Know this, Master Wayne - no matter where you end up, there will always be a home for you to return too. And that will never change."

Bruce's eyes fell; the edges of his lips forming into a tight line, remained closed. His thoughts drifted to the unknown future. He lifted his steady gaze and looked into his butler's watery hopeful eyes.

Alfred unclasped his wrinkled lips. "Your story might not have had a happy beginning, Master Wayne. But it is the rest of the story... who you choose to be that makes life worthwhile. I just hope that you chose the right path." In saying that, he walked out of the bedroom leaving Bruce in deep thought.

* * *

Bruce paced down the empty side-walk as fast as his feet would carry him to his destination. He was swamped with a number of emotions from anger to anticipation in wake of his argument with Alfred. He knew Alfred meant well; for the last decade and a half he'd been doing his best to lift Bruce's spirits and have him follow the path that his parents wanted him to have followed. But for Bruce, there was no moving on, there was no rebirth nor fulfillment in becoming a billionaire philanthropist.

There was nothing in Gotham worth staying for - living for. Except her.

The anger that bubbled in the aftermath of his spat with Alfred gave way to excitement each time he would go to see Selina, which was where his feet were taking him now - into Old Town. Bruce knew Alfred approved of Selina mainly because she brought life back into his withered shell, but what concerned Alfred the most, Bruce knew, was that she would distract him from his responsibilities. His parents would have wanted him to be happy, he convinced himself. But they would have also wanted him to do what he could for this city as they did.

He done nothing in the last decade except feel angry.

Looking at the trashed streets around him and hearing the distant noise of police sirens, Bruce felt a twinkle of despair within him. His parents sacrificed and fought for so much, yet their legacy was crumbling all around him. How could he help Gotham effectively when there were those in power - those who were corrupt - that prevented its healing? How could he do any better than his parents?

He released a disheartened sigh. His current line of thinking prevented many sleepless nights for him.

Where he was headed now would hopefully change that. If there was anything he was certain about was that he wanted Selina Kyle to remain in his future, wherever it may lead.

Just as he neared the end of a sidewalk intersected by a dark alley, Bruce staggered as he felt a crushing fist come from nowhere, blindsiding him across the face and sending him tumbling to the ground. "Argh..." He groaned.

He was given no time to think, as he felt two pairs of hands grab him from the back of his winter coat and hoist him off the ground, throwing him roughly into the dark alley, up against a dumpster. Bruce could only see two dark shapes before another fist collided with face, this time near his eye. He was then thrown into the wall. His back slammed hard into the indents of the brick. He blinked his sight back into focus and glared hard at his attackers.

"You've made a serious mistake." He warned as his jaw clenched. His hazel eyes were locked on his two mask attackers - infused with anger and determination.

"The prince of Gotham has grown weak with his ideals. No matter." One of the men hissed. "The Shadows will mold him into a better man."

"Who are you?" Bruce asked as his spine stiffened. "What the hell do you want with me?" He moved fast at one attacker and delivered a stinging blow to the jaw only to get his fist caught into a gloved hand.

"Anger gives you great strength prince of Gotham. Uncertainly has cost you this defeat." The attacker smashed his fist into Bruce's back and kicked him into a pile of trash bags. Bruce reeled back up and raised his elbows to shoulder level, blood was pulsing as his eyes stared at the two shadows encircling around him with taunting body language.

Nothing but breath escaping his lungs could be heard in the alleyway. He charged at his two opponents and tackled the tallest of the two into the wall, revealing all his pen-up aggression as his face became flushed with pure rage. He smashed his fists into the jaw bone.

"Argh," Bellowed from his throat.

His attackers weren't ordinary street thugs looking to mug him, that much he was certain of as one of his attackers leaped and performed a spinning high-kick to Bruce's jaw. Bruce nearly bit his tongue upon impact. If his fights with Thomas had done anything, they'd hardened Bruce with each encounter. The pain was fleeting and the need for survival came full-force as he blocked a second aimed kick then smashed his foot against the exposed knee of his attacker. A sickening snap was heard followed by a roar of pain.

The other attacker was stunned at the state of his partner's injury. The distraction was enough time for Bruce to tackle him into the dumpster and smash his elbow into the torso. Lifting up a garbage can lid, Bruce used it to bash the two men repeatedly until one of them pushed him back and took the arm of his injured accomplice.

Bruce bared his teeth, blood tricked down his face. "COME ON!" He roared.

The two men glanced at each other in uncertainty before assessing Bruce with what looked to be a approval. "Your spirit is strong even if your body and skills are not. You may yet prove to become worthy of us."

Just as sudden as they had attacked him, Bruce watched as the two masked men drifted into the shadows and disappeared as if they were never there. Bruce sat on his heels in the dark alley - alone, wet and bleeding and suddenly filled with more questions.

* * *

{Old Town}

As the eleventh hour of the evening approached, Selina found herself staring out the balcony door of her ram shacked apartment. A hardened look was etched as her coffee-colored eyes looked outward at the afterglow of the street lights reflecting off the snow covered rooftops. Inside her clever mind, a pool of thoughts started to build. She was no longer the weak screaming woman, the sorry loser that walked the sidewalks looking for a chance to start a fresh new life without the demons of her past.

That woman was just a glimmer of her graying spirit. For the last few months she had started a journey to discover who she was in this impermanent world of shades of gray - labeling herself as the efficient and unflinching woman of satisfaction to heists and pleasurable romance. Now she was able to wear different masks to hide the real Selina Kyle in her world of adaptation.

She leaned her frame against the glass and placed her fingertips against it to feel the cold temperature dip a few degrees. She bashed her eyes shut, allowing the distant hums of the nightlife to relax her restless body. An inhale of breath filled her lungs as she breathed out the frustrations that surged her thoughts.

Two things were seething her mind tonight: the first one was Ginger Robinson's pregnancy and the grim outcome of childbirth. Second was Bruce Wayne; would she finally tell him the truth that she loved him or just allow herself to be a second guesser to her own heart? Her thoughts drifted as the sound knocking broke through the silence of her crammed dingy apartment.

She shook off her pensive numbness that made her youthful appearance look withdrawn and gingerly as she moved to the door - body was on high alert. Her hand grasped the bronze knob as the scuffed up oak-door creaked opened. She gritted her teeth, expecting to find another mark standing in the hall asking for Ginger but instead her eyes matched the chasm of severe emerald-gray eyes.

Bruce stood motionless, keeping his self-composure balanced with uncertainty and equivocation of the attack he had experienced 20 minutes before with the black masked aggressors. His curvy upper lip was swollen with a trickling line of crimson streaming down the bottom of his chiseled chin. A darken bruise was forming on his left cheek.

She swayed her head. "If you're expecting me to feel sorry for you - not going to happen." She lightly teased, resting the palm of her hand on the surface of the door. She could see umbrage of emotion creeping over his sharp features. "Since you are my boyfriend, I will make an exception and show a tiny bit of empathy."

Bruce wiped his chin with the sleeve of his jacket. "But you and I both know it wouldn't suit you." He spoke in a biting tone. "I don't expect you to feel sorry for me, Selina. I acted careless tonight." He inwardly vexed. "Stupid and careless." His blood was boiling inside his veins as his muscles throbbed.

She advanced closer and grabbed his arm, ready to pull him inside. "Sorry, but you do look helpless standing out here."

"Oh thanks," Bruce shot back as he was dragged into her apartment.

She closed the door and leaned her back against the bookshelf. "What are our a plans for tonight? Danger or romance?" She curled her plump crimson lips, showing indents on the corners of her rose petal shaped blades. "Maybe we can take a risk and do both? Your call handsome?"

Bruce surveyed her body with his hazel eyes. She was deleterious to his sexual urges tonight. Dressed in a thin black sweater with only black leggings. Her feet were bare revealing polished toe nails and an ankle charm bracelet. He lifted his eyes up and looked at her face - skin tone of Irish cream, red lips, groomed eye brows, rigid nose and finally her beautiful and alluring prominent coffee-colored eyes. She was a beautiful masterpiece as he fell into a different perspective.

He attacked her without warning, encircling his strong arms around her slender waist, pulling her back against his chest. She leaned back into his melting embrace and closed her eyes feeling his lips drop to the side of her graceful neck as a rumble vibrated in his chest.

She knew this is what they needed. They'd gone out many times over the passed few months, each moment they shared was drawing them closer to one another but it did not mean that they both weren't concerned about the outcomes.

More than anything she thought that tonight was going to be the ultimate challenge of their relationship; no more keeping herself locked away from him, no more letting herself think that there were no blissful moments in her life. This was her chance to confess her love to the billionaire prince of Gotham - the only man that treated her like a human being and allowed her to enter his guarded heart. Tonight he was giving her an offer that she couldn't refuse.

Selina stripped off his winter jacket, unbuttoned his dress shirt and placed her hand on the surface of his chest - feeling his heart beat pulse through her fingertips. His sculpted torso was feverish warm as she twisted her body around and smacked her lips onto top of his wavy fleshed rims. She sucked the air from his heated lungs and swayed her tongue to the walls of his mouth.

Bruce closed his eyes, allowing her breath to take the pain that blackened his soul away with faint moans slivering down his throat. She detached from his lips - a wide smirk crept across her face as she broke free from his tight grasp and slipped underneath him, sliding on her knees in-between his legs. He opened his eyes and gave an abashed look. "Selina," he breathed out as the lights turned off leaving only the shadows of objects in the apartment.

"Don't be shy," her voice blared in the darkness. "I thought you didn't mind the dark?"

He turned around and staggered to the balcony window banging his knee into a dresser. He moved swiftly to the edge of the bed.

"Getting warmer, handsome."

Bruce shot his head back to the middle of the bed as he listened to the sultry laugh break through the dead silence. He strode forward to the side of the bed - hovering over her gracefully stretched out form. She raised her arms back and behind her head, polished toes gripped the sheets. "Don't tell me that you're giving up? And here I thought we were just having so much fun."

He pushed his bangs covering his eyes back and crawled onto the waves of wrinkled sheets, slowly closing the distance between them. He immediately placed his hands on her hips. His hazel eyes narrowed down to hers as she licked her lips with her lipstick shining in the faint shafts of moonlight. The blue tinged light reflected off her alabaster skin as his eyes captured the indents of her plumped mouth. His heated gazed roamed all over her body, down her sleek thighs and bare feet.

"You are so beautiful," he choked out.

She smiled and wrapped her sleeves on his broad shoulders. "So tell me - what exactly does the young billionaire of Gotham want for Valentine's Day? Wine, chocolate or maybe just a kiss?"

"Nothing," he replied softly, framing both of his hands against her face and sliding a finger down to her lips. "Just you, Selina Kyle." He confessed, bringing his face closer to hers with every breath he took. "You're all I want." He began to kiss the side of her neck, sucking every freckle that he dotted once before with the rim of his pursed lips. His hands gripped her curvy hips as he pulled her up to his chest. She wounded her fingers through his dark chocolate locks of hair and one of his hands grasped the back of her head and tilted it back.

Bruce closed his eyes and pressed tenderly on her jugular vein as he could feel her knees wrapping around his form. She pulled off the dress shirt and moved her breasts in forward, matching the indents of his pecks. He lifted his chin and smiled. "I love you." He slurred, maintaining the pace of his breath as he dug deeper into her mouth.

He lifted his body on top of hers as she rolled onto her back. His free hand started to unzipped his jeans as he thrust his pelvis. His breathing was becoming harder and sweat rolled off the planes of his back. She freed the denim from his waist line as he pressed down and aligned his thick thighs. He moved his lips to the crease of her chest.

"Bruce, wait..." Selina said as she pulled off her sweater, revealing scarlet lingerie; a laced bra with matching underwear. Her hands stripped off the red lace and allowed the fabric to descend down to her thighs.

His eyes widened with a rare smile creeping over his features. He found himself melting into her arms. But he knew that this would make their relationship take a turn as he slid one of his arms along the left side of her chest with a satisfied grin etched on his flushed face- trying to surpress the thought of consequences that would come after this night.

She rubbed her fingertips over his glistening skin, feeling the heat his body was producing as he looked into the pools of coffee and chocolate. He breathed a faint excretion of air as he released himself into her, thrusting his pelvis in a steady pace of movement.

Bruce closed his eyes as his lips parted. "Selina," he caught his breath.

"Yes, yes Bruce." Selina jolted her head. "What is it?"

He peered at her perfect form underneath him and curled his lips. "I need to know if you want to come with me? We can go anywhere since it is away from Gotham." He shifted his eyes to the window. "There is nothing here for us."

Selina expressed a blank face. "If that is what you want, handsome?" She let her thoughts build as she reeled up and assaulted his lips.

Bruce pulled away slightly with a frown and framed her face with his hands. "I can't stay here, Selina." His voice became grim. "Too many bad memories."

She mashed her teeth into her bottom lip. "So you're telling me that you have no good memories lodged in that brain of yours?"

'Damn she never misses a beat.' He shrugged. "Tonight counts as one."

She blissfully smiled. "Staying the night, rich boy?"

Bruce nodded. "Yeah." His lips enveloped her flesh with another kiss, his fingers squeezing her jaw, deepening into a passionate gesture - not wanting her to escape from his arms. The full weight of him pressing against her as he kissed her shoulder, her neck, then forehead.

"You missed a spot," she teased, pointing down to her breasts.

He lifted his head up and formed a hard smirk. He drove his lips slowly to the fatty tissue that felt firm as his mouth opened and his teeth chewed lightly. "You are beautiful," he admitted between breaths with a soft growl as fierce expressions etched over his sharp-features. Engulfing flames burned into the pupils of his eyes as he tasted the fire seeping out of her flesh.

She shivered, hearing those words rattle in her ears. "Bruce," Her lips released, feeling the jolts of electricity enter her veins. Her mouth widened and her tongue moved to the back. Her heart was racing and sweat as poured out of places that she never had thought would produce. Before she could let out another moan, her vocal cords ignited and said her confession. "I love you."

She arose and lunged into him, pushing him into the sheets as she locked her thighs on his hips and sank her lips deep into his chest. "I love you, Bruce." She regained her breath and let her melting heart guide her into his glazed flesh.

Bruce closed his eyes and stroked her bare back with his hand. He never felt so alive.

Sweat dripped down onto the crease of his lips as they divided. "I love you, so much."

Those words had been the best gift she had ever received for Valentines.


	10. Chapter 10 : Devils in the Moonlight

**Chapter 10 : Devils in the Moonlight**

* * *

March 13th,

The snow was piling up outside. The dimming sunlight reflected in the cloud cover above creating a tranquil sight for a stirring soul. As the crescent moon was starting to show its shape on the ice covered sidewalks, the dense air reeked of corruption and weary citizens; straight and narrow followers of the law and the gutter trash that hid in back alley ways. There were kinds of people who innocence would deal with every day. Killers on the blood shot streets, homeless inhabitants in the subway tunnels and young boys living underneath stairwells with empty stomachs.

The sirens were screaming on the overpass tonight. A young ten year old dark haired boy walked down the sidewalks of the downtown district steadying his breath as the chilly air entered his lungs. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his worn out jeans as his boots dragged against the cement; an angry expression etched his brow.

Dark brown eyes gazed at the passing GCPD cruiser zooming through the red traffic light. He was captivated by the symbol of the law enforcement painted on the side of the driver's side door. His right hand squeezed into a fist. "One day." He promised. "I'll behind wearing one of those uniforms."

The boy advanced farther down the street feeling the wind rattle through his bitter bones. Flurries dusted themselves on his dark chocolate locks of hair.

Tonight was the third time he ran away from the foster parents that Gotham's Children's Aide set him up without any of his consent. Using the tip of his boot, he kicked a pile of snow . "They always expect the angry little kid to be happy." He scoffed. "I can only pretend to be happy for so long, then the anger takes hold." He kicked another pile. "It never leaves.

He made a sharp turn into an alley that would lead him back to St. Swithin's - a home for Gotham's orphan boys. The good thing that made the orphanage a safe place to call somewhat of a home was a tall compassionate priest named Father Reilly. Other than the compassion and the warm bed, there was nothing else that reminded him of home.

Keeping his head lowered, the boy allowed only the shaft of moonlight to guide his path not noticing two figures leaning against the wall playing with switchblade. One of the men was wearing a red hooded sweater that covered his colorless flesh and dirty blonde hair.

The other man nudged his shoulder. "What do think Jack?" he asked with a slurred voice. "Fresh meat?" He waved his blade into the air. "Slice and dice?"

The man in the red hood rolled his dark eyes. "Why do you always ask me? Do I look like I have a plan, Victor?" He hissed. "Or course not . But you can't handle your carving addiction. You're a loose rabid dog. Once you get a taste of blood, there's no going back."

Victor licked his chapped lips as his crazed eyes looked at the boy. "So young." His body was jerking . "I just want a taste." Mouth was drooling. "One taste."

Jack laughed. "Then go fetch." He gestured his hand.

"Yeah. Slice and dice." Victor bolted for the boy making hissing sounds as his switchblade twirled in the air. "Come here, boy. I got some candy."

The boy turned around . His eyes went wide as he saw the insane man racing towards him. His only option was to scream as loud he could and run to the exit. "HELP ME!" His lungs felt like they exploded.

Jack slowly moved to the quaking child's position. "Don't be a party crasher. We're tonight's entertainment, boy. So I suggest you put a smile on that face." He flicked open his spring load knife and waved it across the boy's face.

The boy gulped down a knot of fear, sweat rolled down his ashen cheeks.

"Come kid, let's see a nice big smile." The blade was pressing to the child's mouth.

With his lips quivering he yelled. "Please somebody! Anybody help me!"

Jack broke into an eerie laugh. "No one is going to help you in this city, kid." He spat.

The boy acted fast and kicked his attacker in the groin and shot out of the alleyway not watching where he was heading until he collided with a tall hooded Bruce Wayne dressed in a black Nike jacket. Both of them crashed as they felt the impact of frozen cement hit their backsides.

A loud groan bellowed from Bruce as he winced . "Watch out where you're going kid,"

"I'm sorry, sir." The boy answered in a shaking tone. "There's a couple of freaks that are chasing me." He pointed to the two attackers walking closer. "They're going to kill me."

Bruce shifted his eyes to the two figures in the shadows. The one in the red hood caught his attention. He quickly arose from the ground. "Don't move."

"Are you crazy?" The boy blared. "They've got knives."

"Thanks for warning, kid." Bruce replied as he advanced to the entrance of the alley. He paced his breath and clenched his jaw. His penetrating hazel eyes glared at the attackers as his upper wavy lip formed his mouth into a scowl. His hands squeezed into fists and his eyes became alert to his surroundings. He felt like irony was a curse on him, allowing all his troubles to happen in alleyways. "Great," he rasped feeling hot blood pulse in his veins.

"Hello there, stranger." Jack grinned as Victor stood behind. "Haven't seen you around these parts before?"

Bruce kept his face tight. "Shut up and fight." He growled. "Isn't that you want freak? To see blood on your switchblade. Come on..." He coaxed revealing engulfing flames in his eyes. "Let's dance."

"Look who wants to be my dance partner by the pale moonlight." Jack teased encircling Bruce, licking his lips with a devilish glint in his eye. "I can see that you've forgotten how to smile in front of strangers. Since I'm such a nice person I will do the honor of carving a smile out for you, pretty boy."

Bruce turned his head and looked over his broad shoulder at the boy. He turned his gaze back to the thug. "If you're trying to scare me, it's not working." He lunged at the hooded man with his elbows raised to shoulder height.

Jack laughed. "Oh, you asked for it, pretty boy." He kicked Bruce in the thigh and watched the young billionaire tumble to the ground. Then he kicked him harder in the gut. Bruce grimaced and cursed under his breath. He grabbed Jack's leg and twisted making the thug stumble into a pile of trash bags. Victor slammed his fist into Bruce's jawbone, drawing blood from his mouth.

"Crimson has always been my favorite color." The debased bald headed thug blared as he rammed his fist into Bruce's jaw again with more force. Bruce's head jerked as blood sprayed into the air.

The boy raced towards him. "Leave him alone." He yelled hitting his fists in the thug's back.

Bruce's hazy eyes stared at the child defending him. "Get out of here..." His vision was growing dim. "Find a safe..."

Jack dusted the snow off his drenched pant legs. He wrapped his arms around the boy and held the blade close to his throat. "Make one move and the kid gets a Colombian necktie."

Bruce fluttered his eyes as he felt something rise up inside. He lifted himself off the ground and wiped the blood from his swollen bottom lip. The hood was no longer hiding his face making his handsome features stand out. His hair was drenched and bangs hung loosely over his eyes. His teeth gritted together as his brows formed a crossed look.

"Get away from him!" He growled in a deeper intimidating tone.

He straightened up and spat crimson on the ground between his shoes. Victor took another swing but Bruce caught his fist and rammed his elbow into the thug's skull while he listened to a yelp. He then threw Victor into the wall, his body quaking with rage.

"Let him go!" Bruce snarled staring into the darken chasms of a nightmarish ghoul. "Drop the knife!"

"Of course." Jack released his grip on the child and dropped the switchblade. The boy looked at Bruce and gave him a quick nod of thanks and headed to the sidewalk looking for any sign of a police officer.

Bruce advanced closer to Jack. Both of them looked dead into each others eyes, studying both of their emotions that read comedy and tragedy .

"I have to admit you put up a good fight, pretty boy." He moved closer to the billionaire and pulled out a switchblade without Bruce noticing. He kicked Bruce in the back of the leg. "But you're just not quick enough to deliver a punchline."

Bruce fell to the frozen ground landing flat on his chest. Jack sat on him pressing his full body weight.

"In all the familiar places." Jack jabbed the switchblade into Bruce's back and watched the twenty-one year old gasp as he felt the sharp pain. "Don't worry I'm not going to kill you." He lowered himself down and whispered into Bruce's ear. "You're just too much fun." He slapped his hand across Bruce's cheek. "I think one day... we'll dance again."

He straightened up and pulled the knife out of Bruce's shoulder listening to his victim suffer.

Blood curdled inside as Bruce released an abysmal scream. "Argh!" his lips curled. "Damn, you bastard!" He used his hands as leverage to lift his body off the ground. Flashes of red and sharp pains made him feel shaky.

Bruce felt his mind begin to drift. The only sound that engulfed his ears was feet that belonged to the boy he saved sloshing in the puddles before he fell unconscious.

* * *

Passing through the East End Quarter district in heels wasn't easy if you were a young attractive woman, while gangs and discharged convicts from prison lurked through the shadows preying on the desperate and the gullible that littered the streets. It had only gotten worse since Carmine Falcone filled the streets with his drugs. He had this city bought and paid for. People made deals with him, sometimes in blood and served him as if he were king to this defiled kingdom.

Children were becoming victims to merciless crimes; the outcomes of growing up to be cold blooded killers or overdosing on Falcone's drugs. Young woman were living on the streets without a glimmer of hope for a better life as they displayed their bodies as store-front merchandise to the lustful men that passed.

he gazed at the rusted barrels that were lit to warm the bodies that lived on the sidewalks. The fires heated them from the bitter cold rush that came off the waves of Gotham Bay. She was noting every detail of her territory, carefully gathering the poverty, loss of innocence and the sinful. Empty needles crunched in the traction's of her heeled boots - she saw the heartless bastards making their evening deals to teenagers in parking lots.

A familiar voice grabbed her attention. At first she scoffed out the sound of heels clicking behind her, but then she turned and faced an older, tall, curly blonde-haired woman with lobs of makeup.

"Luna," The woman beckoned to her. "Luna Moon."

Selina felt her body cringe when she heard her nickname. A nickname that she had embraced when she was a teenager, making a living by selling her body to gutless strangers. Her coffee-colored eyes glared at her encounter.

What do you want, Crystal?" she asked with an annoyed expression. "You're bad company to be around." She continued. "Make it quick."

Crystals dark brown eyes gazed at Selina. "You've got a lot of nerve using that tone with me, after all I've done for you, Luna."

Selina crossed her arms. " You did shit for me . I was always your little scapegoat. As I recall, you were the one that was supposed to rot in the connections facility. I took the blame for you." She squeezed her hand into a fist. "And why the Hell should I help you?"

"I heard what happened to Ginger. Poor girl."

"Stop being a kiss-ass, Crystal. We both know your true intentions." Selina shot back. "Spill what you have to say." She demanded.

"There's a storm coming, Selina." Crystal implored rubbing her fishnet covered legs together. "I've been hearing whispers from the uptown districts. Seems that old friends that we worked with are vanishing every month. I talked to the Foxy, she says that there's new employment happening near the Gotham Docks."

"There's not much at the Gotham Docks that would entice a woman to work there." Selina ejected.

Crystal shook her head. "Wrong, Luna. The Roman has a night club located across the docks."

Selina's eyes widened. It was all making sense to her now - all the details with Alberto and the attack from Stan. The mob boss kingpin - The Roman - was the main threat.

"I'll look into it," she promised, and Crystal nodded to her. Just as Selina was about to vanish into the shadows, the older hooker called out to her. "Be careful, Luna Moon."

Selina moved into shadowy space underneath an overhang and unzipped her backpack that was slumped over her shoulder. She pulled out a black leather outfit and starting undoing her winter jacket.

* * *

A black Mercedes Benz pulled up to the curb as the backdoor opened. A dark haired man, wearing a leather overcoat, emerged and looked at his driver through the passenger's window. He walked into the alley, hungry eyes searching for visible signs of young women that were homeless. He removed a sealed envelope from his jacket's pocket, unaware that a pair of dark eyes were observing him from the umbra of shadows of a fire escape.

The chime of his phone echoed through the dead space of the alley. He responded and answered. "I'm just making a few rounds in the East End. Nothing so far. Probably the weather. The girls are becoming scarce every night." His darkened eyes scanned the area. "Most of the young ones died in the gutters. Cheap merchandise if you ask me."

A sound of movement grabbed his attention. "Hold on," he lowered the phone with a deadly smirk stretched over his lips. "They can run but they can't hide."

"Want to dance handsome?" A sultry female voice discharged from the darkness.

A woman in black leather emerged from the narrow space of the alleyway. Grabbing him, she threw him across the pavement, slamming his back into the wall. He reached for his handgun hidden inside jacket, but she thew her leg, shoulder high and used her heel against his neck. He released a whimper of pain as she leaned in towards him, her crimson lips widened.

What's wrong big boy?" she purred. "Not in the mood to dance?"

Irritated, he recognized her face.

"You're one of those street bitches old Stan tried to knock off."

Selina clenched her jaw. He had never seen a woman as beautiful as her before - collected and bewitching. It was a sight to indulge until he felt the pressure of her high heel digging into his throat.

"What to you want bitch?" He snorted.

"I want many things in life , asshole now I just want your lips to spill the details on Falcone's little operation."

Carlo shook his head. "Sorry kitten, my lips are sealed." He smirked. "You're dumb for riling up Falcone's boy. Now the Roman is going to use the one person that is close to you as a remainder not to sink your claws into his operation."

Selina felt the nose of a handgun dig into the back of her skull.

"Maybe it will just be better to blow your brains out right here and now." Carlo sneered, Selina lowered her leg and felt her pulse accelerating as her attacker from behind admired her slender frame.

"Nice body... the Roman could use a woman like you for his night club. With those lips..." He leaned forward and whispered in her ear. "You would increase the nightly profit... better than the other gutter trash he buys."

Selina's eyes flashed with anger. She dug her heel into his calf-bone hard and listened to him scream. "Sorry, but I'm not for hire." She snarled , spinning around and kicking him in the jaw. She watched him crash to the ground. "Besides, your boss couldn't afford me." She crouched down, disarmed him then threw Carlo against the wall not caring if he broke anything.

"Why is the Roman recruiting young girls?" She demanded, grinding her teeth as the gun she snagged from his driver pressed into his chest. "You have to the count of three to tell me what I want, slime."

"That's even if you know how to count," He mocked.

"Oh , I count fine." She snapped, gloved finger resting on the trigger. "One-"

"Mr. Falcone is in partnership with some freak from England. I don't know the guys name. They send the young girls overseas - black markets - mostly in Hong Kong and the Italian coastline." He gulped down. "So far none of the girls arrived at the ports alive."

Selina was shaking in anger. "That sick bastard is shipping them out to die!" She whipped the gun into the wall and it smashed into pieces. Out of her frustration she gave him a vicious uppercut to the jaw then connected her heel to his groin. She kicked him hard. He fell to his knees.

"Tell your boss that he needs change his shipping schedule."

She bolted out of the alleyway and raced across the street.

Carlo spat blood on the ground and swiped his mouth. "Run all you want kitten, but soon you'll be caged."

* * *

_Nightmarish images dragged him up from the darkness. Bats - screeching and screams - and his father's voice surrounding him. He looked up at the light from ground level of the well as his father's hand reached down to pick him up. A dark tall creature stood in a corner, gazing down at him as black wings engulfed the shadows, coming closer and closer._

Bruce jolted, opened his hazel eyes as he drifted back to consciousness. Lines of sweat rolled down his accented features. Disoriented he found himself in the master bedroom of Wayne Manor laying on his bare back underneath thick sweat drenched sheets. He started at the sunlight streaming in from the window.

He glimpsed at the tray of gauze and needles on the chair by the bedside. His head throbbed and every fiber of his body felt inflamed. His brow furrowed as he tried to focus on his thoughts, then it closed as the morphine was taking another effect - drifting him back into another deep sleep.

_Bats were slashing their wings against his flesh. He screamed thrashing his arms. The graves of his parents crumbled. He heard his mother's scream._

"No!" he screamed in agony. "It was my fault!"

Selina bolted upright from his side. She had been at his side since Alfred told her about his injury. Her fingertips brushed over the indents of his glistening chest. She felt his heart pounding and saw the tears streaming down from the corners of his eyes.

He was thrashing around violently, his lips moving rapidly as mumbled words came from the walls of his throat. She had never seen him in this state of mind before. All she endured was the inner torture seeping out of his sculpted frame as he laid trapped in a dark abyss of a fitful rest. But she sat on the piles of covers, her protective brown eyes watching him fight his nightmares as he tried to pull himself out of the darkness.

She grasped his broad shoulders gently, avoid the stab wound - the reason why he was in this horrible state. She applied tender pressure over his triceps hoping that would release him from it. His body shuddered. "Bruce," she leaned over and whispered in his ear. "Handsome, it's only a nightmare. Snap out of it." She rested her cheek on the groove of his shoulder calmly whispering soothing words as she caught the stench of his sweat-soaked hair .

She kissed the side of neck with her lips. "Come on, sleeping beauty. " She muttered, and gently cradled his face. Her hand was underneath his strong jaw, and she angled his head to her lips. "Maybe all you need is a kiss," she purred. "Prince of Gotham."

She lightly pressed her lips over his.

Bruce darted open his eyes and deepened his lips further into her mouth. His eyes closed as she wrapped her arms around his waist, body rocked with movements of thrust, faint moans broke through the air.

Alfred walked into the bedroom with a tray of tea, he had a careworn expression displayed on his wrinkled face. "Master Wayne..." He paused and looked at the young lovers then smiled slightly. "It can wait."


	11. Chapter 11 : Sensual Recovery

**Chapter 11 : Sensual Recovery**

* * *

Eight hours later...

As glows of dimming light crept into the bedroom, Selina awoke to find herself tangled in his clasped arms. Her darkened ringlets brushed across his graven chest and one hand was enclosed underneath his neck and the pillow. She reeled up carefully, stretching the stiffness in her joints and reaching to the night stand to grab a glass of ice water. Only after did she drain the glass, she rolled off the bed in a somersault landing both bare feet on the floor.

Selina twisted her body and became entranced with the amount of purple-colored bruises found on his biceps as he shifted to his side and rested his hand on the bridge of his sloped nose as if he was trying to shield his face from the wash of twilight.

She gave him a satisfied smirk and turned to walk out into the hall; only then she realized she was half naked and discovered the only thing covering her from the gaze of a flushed Englishman was an over-sized dark blue robe with the initials of Thomas Wayne. She paused and slipped his robe that - smelt of his luscious scent and aftershave - around her pliable frame. In an incredibly strange way she found it comforting. Her nostrils breathed in the aura of Bruce Wayne.

Before she rushed out of the room, she found herself staring into a pair twinkling blue eyes of belonging to a white haired butler and English gentlemen. He was holding a silver platter of tea and fresh homemade cream cheese frosted cinnamon buns. The sugary scent was making her taste buds ignite.

"You looked exhausted Miss Kyle," he pointed out, and Selina inwardly cringed. Being a reckless and daring eighteen-year old she hated being called by her last name it made her sound like an old dame. She masked a smile and her coffee-brown eyes narrowed at the tasteful dessert.

"Let's just say he's not a Sleeping Beauty." she joked. Her head turned and focused on the slumbering young billionaire. She released a deep sigh. "Thank you, morphine."

Alfred released a small chuckle. "Master Wayne is one for tolerating pain." he paused. "And living a nocturnal lifestyle." He continued into the bedroom and set the prepared tray down on the dresser. "I hope he didn't keep you on your toes, Miss Kyle."

Selina half-rolled her eyes. "Alfred, call me Selina." she gruffly addressed. "Look I know that you were raised in England and carry the manners with you. I'm a Gotham girl and i prefer to be called by my first name."

Alfred nodded simply. He was already immune to Selina's breviloquent nature as she gave him a snippy expression. "As an English gentleman and butler to this estate, it is part of my job to address lovely women in an elegant manner." He turned his attention back to his master whose still form was drenched with sweat. Carefully he laid a hand on Bruce's forehead and checked his temperature that had dropped five degrees in the last few hours.

Selina gingerly moved to the other side of the bed and peered down at Bruce. "How is he doing?" she asked biting her tongue the moment that question escaped through her lips.

"He's still a little worse for wear I'm afraid. But the fever has dropped." He breathed out a sigh of relief. "He is a stubborn boy... always thinks that he carries no limits." He mused out loud and carefully checked the bandages on Bruce's left shoulder. There was no more bleeding through the cotton and the encirclement of purple distortion on his skin was turning lighter.

Bruce furrowed his eyebrows and he cringed lightly as Alfred placed a fresh bandage onto him. He never opened his eyes and his lips unclasped as he mumbled out in a strained voice. "Alfred..." The name of his loyal butler died on his tongue before his chin dropped to his chest.

Alfred straightened and looked at Selina. "He will be out most of the night. I will be downstairs if you need me," he said. "His fever has gone down... it will soon break. I thank you for being here to help him recover more quickly."

"I'm not Florance Nightingale." she shot back wittily. "What about that lady doctor that helped dress his injuries?"

"Doctor Thompkins will be here in the morning to check his vitals." Alfred answered looking at the tray on the dresser. "If Master Wayne wakes up, make sure he has a little something to eat. He is very..."

"Pigheaded?"

"Yes, that's it." Alfred smiled with a quick reply.

With that he gave Selina a quick trusting nod and walked out into the hall leaving her alone with his twenty-two year old master and ward.

* * *

The next several hours passed making her feel angst and unnerving. She sipped her third cup of tea while tip-toeing across the room and admiring the treasures of Martha Wayne while Bruce drifted in and out of a dreamless sleep. She pulled out drawers and opened long jewelry cases with expensive diamonds and jewels of every color.

Selina felt her mortal-sense slap her across the face as her fingers clutched the fine pieces that would be worth more than the left over scraps of gold pieces found in the penthouses she plundered. She felt the urge to stuff the spoils of the Wayne family in her jeans. Instead she scoffed and placed everything back into its place without making a noise then moved to the bed.

She curled against his side as he became fully alert and awoke by the warmth of her hands smoothing his stomach. She was abashed to his dark eyes as they studied her; their faces were merely inches apart. At first he looked lifeless, only his hazel-green eyes captured the moonlight that reflected in his pupils. But then the sharp corners of his mouth turned up forming a slight smile as he continued peering into her unnerved frame.

"Well what do you know..." she said in surly tone. "Look who finally decided to come back to the land of the living."

He opened his mouth trying to speak, but his parched throat burned. She reached over to grab a glass of water and handed it to him as she laid on her stomach, hands folded under her chin, and watched him drain the glass. He winced as the soothing cool liquid seeped down the walls of his throat and then placed the glass on the night table while never taking his hazy eyes off of her.

"How long was I out..." he whispered hoarsely, leaning forward to her.

"Long enough." she answered back. "Your fever has gone down although you still look like the undead."

Bruce shot her a smile. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." she replied drawing in closer to him until her head was resting on his stomach. Bruce's fingers caressed over her alabastrine flesh.

He narrowed his eyes at her face. Even in the moonlight she was an artistry masterpiece. He ran a hand over over her plumped crimson lips that reminded him of rose petals deadly and beautiful. Her deep brown eyes captured the essence of the night as her thick lashes fluttered.

"What are you staring at playboy?"

"I don't think I have ever seen your hair so curly. It's beautiful." He exhaled in a breath. "You're beautiful... Selina Kyle."

Selina blushed and found herself betraying her own facade. Instantly she started a banter. "I think Alfred followed the doctor's orders too well with doping you up on painkillers."

Bruce smirked and then slid his hand under her chin, then lifted her head to the level of his lips and kissed while his fingers fondled through her mass of ringlets. His lungs filled with her warm breath. He slowly closed his eyes as he fell into a dream. A dream that was in the form of a woman whose name meant celestial moon. He whispered her name against her lips as they paced their moans.

"Selina."


	12. Chapter 12 : Life of the Backdrops

**Chapter 12 : Life of the Backdrops  
**

* * *

The scent of burning exhaust heightened all senses as the city came alive. The moon was a beacon of light that guided his path into the shadows. Weary and frigid citizens fell intoxicated to the blindness of the world; shuttering fears and broken dreams. His blood bubbled as the distant sounds of police sirens blared through the streets. Criminality had awakened.

Fierce hazel eyes gazed at the backdrops, searching for the prowlers of the night.

Bruce sat on a stairwell outside of Rachel Dawes' apartment, wearing a hooded sweater to conceal his features. He felt the aching of his body... throbbing of his bones as his mind became infested with recaptured thoughts and the anger of his brawl with Thomas Elliot.

A pair of headlights grabbed his attention. He discharged a deep breath and lowered his eyes. A blue Honda parked in the driveway. He watched as Rachel, dressed in cream-colored overcoat, stepped out from the driver side door and went to the back and grabbed a box of files. She used her right foot to close the door.

"Hey... Rachel."

Rachel froze for a moment. Her eyes shifted to the direction of where the baritone voice was coming from. She kept her guard up and slowly approached the stairwell. She saw a man crouched in the shadows. He pulled off his hood, hair flopped over his forehead and his lips formed into a smile.

Once Rachel realized who it was, she visibly relaxed.

"Hey," she responded evenly. "What are you doing here?" Her legs carried her towards the steps, close enough that she could get a better look at Bruce but kept the distance between them... It had been months since the incident with Thomas Elliot.

"I was in the neighborhood." he answered. "Just checking up on you."

Her teal eyes softened as she gave him a pleasant smile. "Don't you know that it's dangerous for billionaire playboys to be roaming the streets after dark?" Her eyes fell to the piles of paperwork her boss, DA Carl Finch, piled onto her after-hour workload.

Bruce descended down the steps with his hands tucked securely into the pockets of his black sweater. His legs were covered with a pair of Levi's that looked surprisingly comfortable on him, and his rounded cheeks that were covered with baby fat, were now turned into structured curvatures.

"Probably," his lips formed a smile as he looked into her eyes. "Alfred is just a dial away." He peered at the heavy box in her arms. "Need help with that?"

Rachel shook her head. "I'll manage. Thanks anyways, Bruce." She bit her bottom lip. "I never really did say thank you for saving me..." She pulled in closer. "You're a good friend, Bruce."

He reached out his hand and slid it down her cheek. "Rachel," he calmly said. "If you ever need anything... I'll be there."

"Just like when you rescued me from Thomas," she gave a little smile. "You know its been months since I've seen him... You probably scared him off."

"Not likely." he replied with a slight hint of anger. She lowered her eyes.

"How is Selina doing?"

"She's good." he answered looking tenderly into her teal eyes. "How are you holding up... I mean with your job?"

She shrugged. "Each day the job feels like it's getting worse, Bruce," she paused in her words. "Things will lighten up,"

He nodded unconvincingly. If Bruce admired one thing about Rachel it was her optimism for a city falling to ruin with each passing day. And yet, she continued to do what she could to lift it from the wreck; because she believed in Gotham. There were times he wished he could be just as hopeful for this city. Believed everything his parents fought for was worth dying for.

Right now that beacon of light - of hope - was something he could vaguely see, but it wasn't reachable following the same path as his parents did, and as Rachel was now doing. Giving his friend a soft smile, he back to move backward.

"I'll see you around, Rachel. Maybe we can catch up and have coffee sometime?"

She creased her eyebrows as he walked away, heading into the obscurity of the alley. She turned around and called out, "Take care of yourself Bruce."

Bruce turned around and gave her a brief nod.

"Good night Rachel," he whispered as his eyes turned dark to the world around him. He stood there watching her enter her apartment with protective eyes. He knew that she had feelings for him... He loved her as his trusted friend... He allowed himself to spend those final seconds watching her close the door before he glanced at his Rolex then disappeared into the shadows.

* * *

Selina cringed at the atmosphere as she sat in a plastic chair in GCPD headquarters. She mashed her teeth into her bottom lip as the door opened and Sgt. Jim Gordon, dressed in his light blue uniform, entered with a withered and tiring look.

She sat across from a desk, her long auburn hair overlapped her shoulders. She released a gentle breath as her eyes scanned the plaques and framed newspaper clippings on the wall.

"Sorry for the late meeting, Miss Kyle," he addressed her and quickly moved to his cluttered desk. "You know the reason why I called you down," he sat in the chair and scattered his hands though the documents on his desk.

She twisted her neck and looked at the crowd of officers standing around a counter with cups of freshly brewed instant coffee. She could already feel the steel of the handcuffs around her tiny wrists.

"You have information about Ginger," she answered, crossing her legs and enveloping both hands on her left knee cap. "I already know the details of her condition."

Gordon frowned. "I talked to doctors and they said that she doesn't have much time left." He sighed. "They are going to perform a C-section tomorrow afternoon. "

She gave him a piercing stare as her lips formed into a scowl. "The baby is going to be premature, and Ginger is going to hold her daughter one last time instead of..." she dropped her eyes as Gordon explained the details of the surgery and the outcome of the baby's survival. She looked down at the desk and released a heavy sigh, slightly bored with the details she already obtained from the nurses on her previous visits.

"The child will be kept in NICU for a few weeks. Then we can go from there."

She said nothing, but looked at her watch for a moment, straightening up from the chair. "I guess that's how it's going to be," she dished out with a hardened tone as her dark eyes infused with remorse.

"I will let you know if there are any changes in the morning." He sipped a bit of coffee and looked at her with wary blue eyes before he swallowed. "You are the baby's guardian since Miss Robinson has no remaining family members." He added, noticing a shroud of discomfort cover her youthful features.

"Thanks for spelling out for me, but I need to go," she said, picking up her purse from the floor and walking into the tension of law enforcement officials and strong stench of burnt coffee.

Looking up from his office to the entrance doors, Gordon trailed behind her. The bewitching hour was approaching as there was a bit of chill in the air.

"I'm guessing that you don't have a ride," he said humbly as they stepped outside. She slowly nodded. He pulled out a pair of car keys from his pocket."You probably have someone meeting you..." He shook his head. "Kids today are becoming more into night-owls. Since it's not safe for a young woman to be walking the streets alone - I will drive you."

She shook her head and tossed him a coy smile. "I'm a tough girl." She responded. "I know this city like the back of my hand." She started walking along the sidewalk. "I don't really like doughnut eaters, but you're a good cop... one of the few." she breathed in the night air."Try to stay out of trouble."

Gordon smiled and walked to his unmarked car. He watched her go until she turned the corner. "Likewise, Miss Kyle."

* * *

Inside her disorganized apartment, Selina fought to contain her emotions as she ran a brush through her thick strands of auburn. Her eyes flashed dangerously as grabbed a mug of tea and sipped cautiously while breathing in the steam. It was soothing to her throat and to the boiling blood gushing through her veins.

She started to lose herself in the dim light, and all her thoughts cluster as she scoffed underneath her heated breath. She hated feeling this way. The Selina Kyle that survived the backdrops of his dingy city had always been able to gain confidence with every situation that the world threw at her - not this deadbeat young woman that was concerned for someone else other than her own skin. She closed her eyelids and took a deep breath then released the eruption of anger.

A knock on the door made her turn in the direction of the nerving echo. She opened the drawer and placed the brush back into it's rightful spot with all dollar-store elastics and bobby pins.

She stretched as realization dawned on her. In a movement of elegant poise, she walked through the archway and locked the door. Her lips curled into a smile as her coffee-colored eyes stared at her lover. "What took you?" she plainly asked, her arm resting on the door.

"I didn't know that you keep track of time," he responded as he lifted his chin. He felt a little more content than he did a few hours ago, holding his gaze onto her body. "Sorry I'm late."

She looked away from him for a moment and invited him with a flash of her lashes. She slightly tilted her head. "This city is a dangerous place... You can't be too careful, rich boy." She shot as he immediately enclosed his arms around her waist. She felt the sizzle his body produced press against her rigid frame.

Selina pulled back, making him enter through the door. She twisted and slammed the door shut using her foot. "I'm sure I can think of something to make up for the lost time."

She crashed her body into his, wrapping her arms around his neck as his hands glided down her back. "Maybe we mrph..." Bruce was lost with thought as he felt her sweet lips press against his, a deep moan swirled up his throat as heavy breathing entered the air between them.

She swayed her tongue over the ridges of his bottom lip, nudging her breasts into his chest and gasping at the savory taste of his lips; moist and decadent and already different from their past kisses.

Bruce slammed his eyes as he became entranced by her touch. He was mindless, breathless and in love.

* * *

The next morning, a pair of hazel-green eyes rolled open and glanced outward at the backdrops of Gotham as he tensed his chiseled body, feeling the warmth of flesh and blood.

Bruce clasped his arms around her to enclosed against his graven chest. His voice was monotone and soothing to her ears, "It's too early to get out of bed."

Selina became content as she burrowed further into him. "Plenty of time." she purred.

Bruce smirked and fondled his hand through her wild mass of curly ringlets and kissed her on top of her head. He wrapped his arms tighter around her as she cozily rested on his torso and listened to his fluttering heart. "Besides, I wouldn't be pushing my limits as a billionaire playboy if I didn't sleep in until three."

She lifted her head and rolled her eyes. "You're using that as an excuse just to stay in bed with me. Cocky playboy."

"That's not what you called me last night?" He grinned, raising both eyebrows.

"Don't remind me." She shot back, noticing the crescent scar on his shoulder created during the alley brawl he experienced a month back.

Bruce smiled as he soothed the strands off her bare shoulders while she circled her finger onto his pecks. He then tickled her sensitive spots and listened to her giggle. "So the beautiful Selina Kyle has a few weak spots..."

Selina smiled and rolled into the crinkled streets as he turned to his side and ran his soft fingertips down her black lace silk slip. "Don't be shy?" She teased, stretching her arms over the creamed-cotton pillow before slipping under the covers.

Bruce pulled the covers off her body and crawled over her as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "You can't hide from me, Selina. I know all your tricks of the trade."

"Do you now?"

She shook her head and smirked at him as she tried to look away from his soft hazel-green eyes that were scorching with core driven arousing desire. He was sexy wearing only sleep pants that were snugged around his trim waist. His inviting thin lips were enticing to gaze on and without warning, he lifted her slip and slid his hands down her rib cage, fingers gripped the sleekness of her flesh.

"So tell me, Prince of Gotham, what are looking for this morning?" She gazed into his penetrating chasms and grinned, feeling his warm lips graze the crease of her breasts and she gasped loudly feeling aroused. "Tell me?"

Bruce lifted his head and smirked. "You," he answered, his breath hitching.

She smiled up at him and became captured by his intense gaze. "That is quite an impressive request handsome,"

Bruce nodded and blinked "Lina.." He said calling her by a nickname he created and lowered his head. His tongue licked down her freckled skin and then he kissed her soft and sensuous. He flexed his six pack as his thick muscled body aligned with her slender frame and drove into a steamy kiss. Selina arched her back making her breasts ram into his chest as her hands dug into his shoulders. She paced her breath in between breaks as he offered his hunger.

His upper teeth gripped her bottom lip as he wildly indulged into her mouth. She slipped her hands down the bare planes of his back.

Selina quivered as his body heat ignited her core. Air escaped from her lungs as her legs parted to the pressure of his weight. Sharp thrusts, harsh gasps and beads of sweat engulfed their bodies. His palms slid down her hips as she straddled her knees around his wrist and arms over his shoulders.

Bruce straightened his body from the bed with her wrapped around him, showing no signs of releasing her hold. He kissed her throat and then finally laid a full assault on her plump lips as the kissed deepened and then he broke away, gulping for air as he inhaled. His eyes locked into her misty gaze. "You're mine," he seethed as her lips pulsed against his bottom lip.

Selina's hands latched over his tasty cut-stone cheeks. "Yes, yes," her breath breathed in the sweaty scent of him as it produced out of his pores. Her eyes opened and closed as his hands swirled down her hips. He slowly licked over her shoulder and sucked the indulgent of her silken flesh.

He kissed her again as she allowed all emotions to pour out of the lithe body. She never trusted any man before, they were all lustful dogs in her vocabulary... Bruce Wayne was an ambrosial treasure... and when she looked into his eyes she saw an everlasting hope imbedded in the molten hazel.

She escalated from the mattress and cloaked her arms around his chassis as a ripple of torment surged her mind. Ginger Robinson was scheduled for a C-section, she knew that only one life would survive and come off the operating table.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

She unlocked from his torso and cast her eyes down. "Nothing I can't handle."

Bruce looked at her and sighed, "You're worried about something. If you don't want to tell me that's fine." Selina creased her eyebrows and burrowed her head into his chest as he pressed a kiss into her hair, "Are you happy being with me?" He caressed her cheek. "Are you?"

Selina swallowed. "It's not about you, Bruce..." she looked into his honest eyes. "I love being with you... I love you." she answered softly.

Bruce beamed and his lips formed into a sulking glower as he saw her exposed demons "What is wrong? Are you in trouble Selina... You need to tell me."

She bit her bottom lip and peered into his face through her lashes as she laced her words with bitterness. "A friend of mine is dying..." she confessed in anguish. "I am surprised that she lived this long."

Bruce's eyes fell as his semblance changed, hazel eyes became foggy with dejection and his brow furrowed. "What happened to her?" he asked. She shrugged her shoulders and gave an off lock to the archway.

"She made a few mistakes and now she is paying the price."

He clenched his jaw, and his tone went deeper "How long does she have?"

"Let's just say that death has been at her doorstep ever since she became..."

"What?" he questioned, raising his left eyebrow. She arose from the bed and moved to the window. She said nothing as she allowed her anger to fume. Her arms crossed her chest. She could hear the breath coming in and out of his nose as he rolled off the bed and encircled his arms around her waist.

"She's been carrying a little girl inside her while fighting a blood disease. Today she is supposed to have a C-section... The baby is premature... and Ginger is now on her death bed." Selina shook her head and shrugged her shoulders..." Life always throws the backhand at the ones that don't deserve it."

Bruce winced a little and then gave her a nod of understanding. He turned her around and softly kissed her brow. "Everyone witnesses death at some point in their lives..." he paused and released a deep breath. "Some too soon than others."

Selina's lips formed a straight line and she dropped her eyes. "Sometimes it stares at you right in the face... All you can do is run from it."

Bruce wrapped her into his arms. He pressed himself against her and let his hands freely run over her body.

Neither of them spoke.

They just stood in front of the vanity, that had nail polish and make up collections, and held onto each other as the breath from their lungs broke through the silence.


	13. Chapter 13 : Prespective Noir

**Chapter 13 : Perspective of Noir  
**

* * *

The world seemed a lot darker around her, and Selina fought the demons as she dimmed the pain stinging in her eyes. She rolled her eyes towards the streets of labyrinth - brick singed walls, broken windows, laundry hanging on a clothesline from ram-shack buildings.

"_You're a stray_," a voice in the back of her mind whispered. It always sounded like the slurring tone of her drunken father. She slammed her eyes shut, feeling his threats dig into the walls of her unsettled soul. "_Gutter trash, a worthless little girl... You're already swimming with the sharks in the deep end."_

The air reeked of spilled whiskey and battery acid. She was entering a dangerous territory as she recollected her final moments with Ginger Robinson.

{Flashback}

_ Blue tinges of light reflected on the ICU walls; the unnerving sounds of monitors wafted in her ears as she stood at the foot of the bed, watching the faint exhalation of breath escape the numbing lips of a woman that was on her death bed. Selina lowered her eyes at the frail form under the white sheets. She couldn't understand why her tear ducts released no flow of water. Maybe she was finally used to seeing death...to seeing life slip away as a thief in the night. She felt nothing._

_ Ginger fluttered her eyes open and looked at the young brunette. "What are you doing here, kitten?" she wheezed out, trying to swallow the amount of blood rising in her throat._

_ Selina folded her arms over her chest, feeling her emotions betray the dying woman staring back at her. "I've come to say congratulations... She is a real gem, Ginge."_

_ "Holly," she gasped in realization, feeling her breath dimming from the pain rushing through her ashen colored body. "Is she okay? Where is she?"_

_ Selina's lips came together in a firm line. "Your little girl is fine," she assured her. "She's resting in the NICU... She's a survivor."_

_ Ginger breathed out in relief; her voice was shaky and her tears warm. " I guess I got the backhand after all...I knew that time was the enemy... Death was at the front door."_

_ Selina's coffee-colored eyes shot back a deadly glare. "When I get my hands on the bastard who did this to you and Holly... I'll beat the life out of him."_

_ "What are you talking about, kitten... You've got a whole life ahead of you. Don't waste it." She said, tears flowing down her blood-drained cheeks and looked directly at Selina. "I need you to do something for me..."_

_ Selina listened as her friend's breath grew faint._

_ "Promise me that you'll look after my little girl... I give her a life to live."_

_ "You give her life in a city that we both know is a living Hell," Selina growled back, remorse clinging on the walls of her throat. "When the time is right I will teach her how to survive; to strike before someone stabs you in back; to blend in well with her surroundings."_

_ Selina's eyes glanced at the waves and intervals on the ECG monitor screen displaying a decreasing heart rate, "It's been one hell of a ride," she said, looking at Ginger for a final goodbye and then walked out of the room, feeling a surge of anger gush into her veins._

Selina fluttered her lashes several times as her mind erased those haunting memoirs. Her hypersensitive skin prickled as dread clutched at her gut, enveloped around her torn heart and also squeezed against her lungs.

Everything around her stricken frame seemed like a shadow. She no longer saw the glimmers of light guiding her home. All that became captured in her dark eyes was a concrete jungle waiting for an untamed predator to deem the backdrops, stores, and penthouses as her domain.

Her body felt the coldness of the city underneath her red polished claws, smelt the fumes of car exhaust and plunged all senses into the driven lust of conquering her own black and white world.

She was no longer a flinching little girl that dreamed about living in a castle. No - she was a strong, determined and confidant woman that would face her demons head on.

* * *

Mario Falcone, the youngest son of the Roman sat in leather office chair, dressed in a white collar shirt and black jacket, steely ice blue eyes glanced at the bottle of the smooth and mixable flavored whiskey, he raised the half empty shot glass in his hand, twirled the melting ice as his nose caught a whiff of sweet feminine aroma.

"Well what do you know I think this night is turning out better than I thought," he said, with a rich Italian accent. His eyes observed the curvy shadow near the balcony door. "Don't be shy sweetheart...I'm always in the mood for company."

"Even if it's bad company?" low voice implied. He looked at the intruder, dark auburn hair was straighten, tear drop lips smeared with red gloss and caramel-brown eyes darken with eyeshadow. Her thigh high heels clicked on the floor, and leather pants captured the glows of the dimming light.

Mario curled his smooth lips with a satisfied grin, "So tell me sweetheart...why the sudden encounter?" Selina twisted her lips into a deadly smirk.

"I've heard that you have a lot to offer ." she fluttered her thick lashes, and glanced at the priceless collections on his office's wall. "How about we have a drink first?"

He nodded, "What does the lady prefer?" he asked.

"Hard with a hint of spicy in the mix." she answered, leaning her lithe body against the door frame, hands rubbing her leather thighs and top teeth mashing into her bottom lip. "I can see that you're a man that as taste for Reminiscence Era." she said shifting her gaze at the framed oil paints. "Must of cost you a fortune..."

Mario turned his head, and looked at the painting on the wall. "Not really...it was a gift from my mother." he explained pouring the golden malt liquid into a shot glass. "Do you have a taste for art?"

He pulled out the chair and walked over to her position, handing her the glass. Selina gave him a short nod and a took a sip, tasting the combustion of flavor seep down her throat, he stroked his fingers through her hair. She cringed at the coldness of his alarming touch.

"Depends on the value. I'm more of a jewelery collector...diamonds are a girls best friend after all," she purred, noticing a black diamond concealed in glass near another tasteful art display.

Selina drained the glass, and dropped it onto the floor. "Opps," she said, the edges of her curled into a dangerous smile. "I guess the alcohol numbed all my senses."

Mario moved his lips over the slide of her cheek. "I prefer to have my women daze...easier to control if you know what I mean..." She clenched her jaw, piecing everything together and she had him right into her claws.

"And what kind of women you like getting into your pants?" she played anticipating her next move, tongue licking across the row of her upper teeth. "Don't be shy...I won't tell."

"The kind that you can knock up so easy..." he grinned. "Like that gutter trash I rough up nine months ago...and now she's six feet under."

Selina felt her blood reaching a boiling point, she squeezed her hand in a fist. "Gutter trash!" she growled, eyes becoming darker with rage. "You are the bastard ..." her lips tightened into a scowl of disgust. "You sent Ginger Robinson to her death bed. Damn you to Hell.".

Mario shrugged, his hands cupping over her breasts "I heard she had a little girl...Holly."

Selina slapped his hands off her chest and back away a few inches. Her mouth dropped for a moment.

"If you ever touch the baby...I'll gut your heart out." she seethed, body quaking. Dark angers eyes met his intense blue eyes. "You will never have her."

"You're going to have to come up with a better threat than that," he taunted. "Unless you want that sexy body of yours filled with lead?"

"I don't think you thought this through...you see the thing about about me...I am very unpredictable." She moved closer, using her body language to entrance her prey and then delivered a strong kick in the center of his chest, a very dangerous self defense technique but very effective which could create a lot of problems for Mario. He pushed back, wrapped his arm around his chest.

"You bitch!" he snarled, lunging after her with his hands reaching for her throat.

Selina felt Mario's hands wrapped around her neck, her body slammed into the wall. She instantly cupped her hands and delivered hard smacks to both of his ears. She used the wall as leverage, pushed herself upwards and with her legs and kicked him in the head with her heels.

"Never attack a woman in heels big boy," she hissed, watching Mario staggered backwards. "These boots can be a real killer." She lined her heel with his groin and kicked him hard with a remorseful glint in her eye.

He swiped the blood dripping out of his nose and glared angrily at her.

"Light's out," She said moving quickly behind , putting her arm around Mario neck. She crooked her elbow over the midline of his neck. pinched her arm together compressing both sides of the neck into a carotid restraint hold.

She released her blood choke hold on him, he crashed to the floor gasping for air, she drew a dark gaze at the glass case and smirked.

'I think I'll keep something to remember you by," she lifted the glass case and swiped the Carbonado diamond. "Black my favorite color."

Selina stuffed the jewel into her pants pocket and blow him a kiss, "See you around." she yelled, disappearing into the shadows.

* * *

The next afternoon, Bruce's eyes bored at the gleaming towers of Gotham's Financial district while adjusting the blue silk tie wrapped around his neck. He squinted his eyes, showing distinct indents of his brow as he expressed inward annoyance and frustration.

"I've already contacted Mr. Earle's secretary; Angela," Alfred relayed, observing his young master's piercing glare. "I told her that you will be meeting Mr. Earle in the board room."

"What's the point of this Alfred... I'm a drop out." Bruce's lips formed into a firm line. "I don't have the right qualifications to run Wayne Enterprises."

Alfred took a deep breath and kept his composure stern; he pulled the Royce to the curb of Wayne Tower. "With all do respect sir, you're the heir of Thomas Wayne's legacy. Wayne Enterprises is your company."

Bruce flashed his eyes as irritation burned into his veins. "No, Alfred, this isn't my company. Its a place where old men in suits discuss golf lessons. And I'm not going to waste my energy meeting with Mr. Earle and discussing the plans for its future."

Alfred turned his head, looking vexed. "Right now you don't have a sustainable future, Master Wayne. You spend your nights with Miss Kyle... when you should be hitting the books and doing research on this company that stands before you. The board members know that you've cavorted in and out of all those private schools and universities." He paused, watching Bruce's eyes grow darker. "You need to stop living in the past so you can have a future."

Bruce flared his nostrils, hazel-green eyes burning. Alfred didn't break his stare as he continued.

"I know these years have been rough for you, I've tried to help you forget... but I will never give up on you, Master Wayne... only if you don't give up on yourself."

Bruce's eyes drooped, and his lips thinned. "Tell Mr. Earle that I had another previous engagement with the Ivy League." He said, opening the backseat door and stepping out into the street. He lifted his chin and looked at the tower that had his family's initial on the top.

"Where the bloody hell are you going?" Alfred asked, his body tense. "You have future to make, sir."

"Not in this city," Bruce stormed, slamming the backseat door. He raced through the traffic, scoffing at the irked drivers blaring their horns as he maneuvered his body to the other side of the street, blending in with the crowd as he took off his Armani suit's jacket and swung it over his shoulders.

Alfred watched him disappear and shook his head. "Stubborn boy," he muttered, turning the ignition key. He shifted his eyes to the entrance doors of Wayne Tower. He noticed a tall African American man emerging from the revolving doors.

He switched off the engine, opened the door and waved at the middle-aged gentlemen. "Lucius," he called out. The technology researcher and inventor, Lucius Fox, drew his brown eyes at the white haired Englishman.

"Alfred, always a pleasure," Lucius said with a friendly smile as he walked closer to the Rolls Royce. "William Earle told me that he was having a meeting with Bruce Wayne?" He noticed through the windows that the backseat was empty. "Let me guess - he took off?"

Alfred nodded. "He just doesn't understand, Lucius, how important he will be to his father's company."

"Well you can't force him. Bruce is young man that needs to learn responsibility."

"Indeed." Alfred replied. " I just want what's best for him. He's full of potential... that doesn't need to be wasted."

Fox gave a slight chuckle. "Bruce is a lot like his father; stubborn and very intelligent. I read his test scores at the board meeting we had a few days ago... I really don't understand why he won't finish university?"

"Personal reasons, Lucius." Alfred answered."Master Wayne left Princeton because of personal reasons... A young woman has come into his life. He's putting all his focus on their relationship and abandoning his family's legacy." He paused as his wrinkled lips began to quiver. "It brings me joy to see that he has found happiness with someone... but I'm afraid that I might lose him."

Lucius placed his hand firmly on Alfred's shoulder. "You're not going to lose him, old friend... Bruce's is a strong young man; and every man has his own journey. He is only discovering what road to take right now... But he's also frustrated. All you can do for him is..."

"Life him up every time he falls..."

* * *

The sky was a canvas of mixtures of the dimming twilight sun, glows of office lights reflected off the water Gotham Bay, he listened to a faint rumble of thunder rolling in the distance. The approaching storm font was slowly closing in, the cool breeze rushed over his dark locks. Hollows of hazel shifted to the cloud formations of dark grey forming outward from the city.

Bruce stood on a rooftop, ears tuning into the city's melody...the wailing sirens of ambulances, fire engines and GCPD patrol cars racing through the main streets...tires screeching on the pavement, horns blaring and a shuddering sound that made his body cringe.

He was getting a different prescriptive of Gotham, seeing the wide range of urban decay filtering over the streets, smelling the fumes rotting disgust ...he lowered his intense gaze at couple of drug dealers standing on the crosswalk below, making their nightly deals with young clients... and then listened to a screaming woman looking for her fix to contain her addiction.

Everything was disturbing him with intense waves. His brow furrowed and dark eyes focused on the red and blue flashes reflecting in store front windows as ambulance zooming through the traffic light with a police car trailing closely behind. He felt the inner rage pound against the cravens of his soul...darkness cloaked his entire body...sharp jaw line tightened...and hands. His lips formed into a grimace of aggression.

Bruce felt combustion in his blood stream...it scorched every fiber of his body...almost as if he's stripping off his own skin...shadows cast over his entire being. Fierce thoughts ravage through his tortured mind...he focused on his guilt...the never ending pain that he tires to conceal from those he cares about..the haunting memory of watching his parents get struck down by a gun.

He slammed his eyes shut and felt himself falling deeper into a black abyss...trying to grasp the walls of his soul to prevent him from hitting the bottom...all he saw was fluttering shapes closing in on him...his demons of the past...childhood dread.

He darted opened his eyes to the cold drops of rain prickling his heated skin. He fixed a stare on Wayne Tower, parted his lips and released a deep sigh...frustration echoed in the light drizzle and matched the sonic crackle of thunder.

* * *

The next evening; Selina's hands grasped the iron railing, leaning her knees into the bars as the beads of rain water covered her creamed flesh. She looked over her shoulder as her hair draped around the edges of her face, stared at a half-naked Bruce Wayne, basking on the smooth blankets... His deep-set eyes glared directly at her drenched hair cascading on her back. She arched herself, grinding her abdomen against iron.

"Don't be such Faraday cat. You're good looks aren't going to melt in the rain." She teased, meshing her teeth into her bottom lip. Bruce lowered his head, resting on his crossed arms with his bare feet touching the head board. "Come on playboy... take the risk."

She stepped down from the ledge, and slowly moved into the doorway of their hotel suite at the Golden Optimum Hotel that he registered two days prior. They needed a bit luxury to deepen the relationship; candle dinner and glasses of white wine that still lingered on their lips.

Bruce straightened his back and leaned against the headboard. Selina stepped closer to the bed as he curled his knees into his torso. She watched a glimmer of pain cross over his face. "Do you want leave Gotham tonight... We've got everything we need..." his breath was choppy, feeling the acid in his stomach bubble. "I'm tarnishing my family's name..." he paused in mid-sentence. "I'm just a disappointment."

"Okay," she said with a sudden intake of breath, crossing her arms. "In what way?"

"I'm the heir to my father's company; the future of Wayne Enterprises, and the last to carry on my family's name. I have made a few mistakes that have destroyed any chance of me running that company. I'm carrying too much anger and everything else has become less important to me... All I want to do is avenge my parents... not hide behind a desk..." A determined look crossed his features. "I want to feel invincible."

"So what are are your plans. Going to be runway... join the circus?" Selina interjected, sitting on the edge of bed. "Become a stray ?"

Bruce set a shadowy gaze on her. "I just want to get out of this city..." he swallowed thickly. "With you..."

"Bruce..."

He felt his rib cage ripple, his heart was throbbing... She was an intoxicating fire, a scorching blaze of pure beauty, allure, and danger.

Those crimson tear drop lips were poison to any other man that wouldn't dare to cross her path. He noticed a few qualities unravel... there was more darkness in her eyes and a strength flowing through her body. She was no longer the girl he rescued from that sexual enticed drunk; she was now a woman masquerading and taking anything she desired.

Bruce curled his lips into a deadly grin... he was ready to feast. He crawled to her, feeling the tension flaring inside her body. She laid on her back, he hung his head over her, his shadow dimmed the flawless of cream. One of his hands roamed down to her curvaceous hips. His fingers dug into the crease of her inner thigh and he heard a pant escape from her opened lips.

Selina stretched gracefully underneath his frame, lines of water drooped down to the crease of her breasts. "Take me with you..." she managed to say watching a vacant express creep across his refine delicate features. His lips pressed over her mouth as he plunged deep, indulging the taste of her...a delight for a all the senses, she allowed a deep moan to slither down the walls of her throat...perfectly calculating the heated pants escaping his lips, watching his upper lip fall slightly on the right side making it protruded a bit.

Every bone of flexible her body was turning into melting jelly, feeling his sweaty hands sway across her rigid stomach as he lifted up her slip, watching her skin pulse from the beating of her heart...there was guilty pleasure...indescribable passion driving into her core.

Bruce's full weight fell against her body. She drove her polished nails into the planes of his glazed back, gripping the shoulder blades with firmness as he devoured her lips into another kiss. His cheeks were flushed and eyes foggy from the feverish symptoms igniting in his body. "I love..." he said, his breath hitching as he planted his tongue into the hollow walls of her mouth while his pelvis starting hammering hard into her.

"Bruce..." she seethed, eyes opening and closing, feeling his hands massaging her hips; feeling the momentum of his breath trickle down her throat as she gulped down. She was ready to roar... feeling like a lioness in the untamed jungle as he claimed her... This stray cat wasn't ready to be tamed.

She tasted the smoldering acid; the burning singed through her lower body. Her hands became greedy over his damp skin, sliding underneath himself until all she saw was graven abdominal packs and jeans snug at his waist. She dug her fingers into the space between denim and flesh, slowly pulling them off. She was anticipating and her lips curled into a devious smile.

Bruce opened his mouth with a heavy gasp, feeling her silken finger rub against his stiff groin. "Selina," he growled, tongue was curling and fists sinking into the blankets "Selina..." He rasped out, eyes burning as she was pushing into him.

"Shut up ... You need this," she said running her fingers in between the groves of heavy muscle... She wrapped her legs around his waist and encircled her arms around his broad shoulders. "We need to cool down. Does a cold shower sound good."

"No," Bruce hissed, lifting himself off the drenched comforter, and moving to the balcony door with her latched over his body. "I have a better idea." He walked over into the walls of rain, and pinned her against the stone wall; marveling at the daggers of water downing his scorching skin.

"Just what we needed," Selina said, kissing his throat; not giving a damn that their half naked forms would be seen by the public eye. She then moved her lips onto his and suckled the flesh at the sharp corners of his mouth.

Bruce kept his eyes closed, he breathed in the scent of the downpour enveloping them.

He stroked his hands through her drench strands of streaked auburn and kissed her lightly on the lips. Nothing compared to the sensation of flesh touching flesh. She was more than his girlfriend; she was an emotional survivor; a soul mate that you could spend all your life searching for as you walk into the mists of time.

She titled her head back and his lips slowly sucked underneath her jaw, to the side of her neck. Then he pulled away and looked into her dark caramel eyes, using his thumb to wipe the excess water brimming at the corner of her eye. He cradled her face with his hands and impaled his lips into hers. He muffled words against her redden blades.

"I love so much you, Selina Kyle," He said softly as he felt her lips twist into a smile.


	14. Chapter 14 : Torn

**Chapter 14 : Torn**

* * *

Stormy gray rainclouds began to gather in the afternoon skies as Bruce jogged around the exterior of the Wayne Estate. Dressed in track pants and a tight gray shirt, he had been running laps all morning in the cool summer weather. He could hear his own blood pumping through his ears, and feel the sweat dripping down his brow and back. His breath came out in slow steady pants as his legs moved in an unbreakable rhythm. The burning exertion creeping into his muscles stood at the back of his mind, while he held thoughts of Selina and the future of Gotham at the front.

Since that night he shared with her at the hotel, he'd done a lot of thinking while at the same time ignoring Alfred and the numerous calls being forwarded to his cellphone from company executives trying to coax him to come forward and take control of Wayne Enterprises. They were the least of his concerns right now.

Bruce had come to the sure conclusion that whatever he would decide to do with himself, he wanted Selina to be a part of his life. But he knew things weren't as simple as that. Selina was her own woman too; an independent one who wouldn't tie herself down to whatever future a man decided for himself that didn't agree with her own.

That – and she would soon have another life depending on her; and unlike him, this life was innocent and newborn. Selina wanted to leave Gotham behind her – her responsibility with it.

Bruce wasn't so sure he could do the same…

Each trip he made into the city - seeing the gloomy depressive state of the homeless on the streets, the unsolved crime scenes, the drifting thugs and dealers preying on the weak - made his choices much more complicated. Contrary to what others might think of him - he wasn't apathetic. He just didn't believe the path they wanted him to follow was the answer to righting the wrongs of Gotham City – his city.

He still didn't know what the answer was to fighting injustice but he knew in the current state the city was in, the answer wasn't in an office building, a police station or a court room. That was something Alfred and Rachel couldn't understand; the sad and undeniable truth about Gotham – there were good people here, but no justice for them.

Getting sleep at night never felt so difficult these days than they did over ten years ago. The option of abandoning everything here did cross Bruce's mind more often than he would've wanted. It would be easier…much easier.

He shrugged as he banished those thoughts from his mind as he turned a sharp corner and focused on the sight of the main gates to the estate coming up ahead of him. He took a look at the gray skies above him and could feel a slight trickle of rain descending on him. Glancing at his watch, he could see he'd been jogging around the perimeter of his own home for about two hours now.

He decided to take a break from his morning routine and began to slow in his tracks as he approached the gate to his home. His eyebrows furrowed at the sight of an unfamiliar car driving away from the house and coming up to the gate – preparing to leave.

Curious, Bruce stepped up to the outer gate and punched in the security code to open it. The gates opened and a black Sedan slowly pulled up to Bruce who stood beside it. The car stopped and Bruce stared at his reflection in the glass before the window rolled down and he was met face to face with an older African-American male with a friendly smile.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Wayne. I never thought to see you answering your own gate for your guests." The man lightly joked, surprising Bruce even further.

"Not a morning habit of mine if that's what you're wondering…" Bruce answered, slightly bemused as he concentrated on the man's face until he remembered his name. "You're Mr. Fox, right? Alfred told me about you – think I even saw you coming out of Wayne Enterprises once."

"Well I do work there." Fox answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Bruce nodded nonchalantly. "And how are things there?" He crossed his arms. "Something tells me your visit here wasn't a social call."

"I'm afraid you're right about that." A dismal look came over Fox's face. "Let's just say - Wayne Enterprises has seen much better days."

Bruce shrugged. "Look Mr. Fox, no offense, but I've heard it all from Alfred, and my belief is the company will manage just fine without me. It's stood vertical ever since my father died, it won't suffer and differently without me."

Fox raised his eyebrows in a humorless manner. "Can I offer you some friendly advice, Mr. Wayne?"

Bruce nodded.

"I can't imagine how difficult things have been for you this whole time. The city has gone to rot and if it's let anyone down - it's been you and your family. Taking off and leaving it all behind may not seem like such a bad idea…" He glanced at Bruce knowingly.

Bruce met his stare unflinchingly, despite the implication of his words.

Fox continued, "You probably think you don't owe it anything…and you probably don't. If anyone deserves a chance to be happy it's you. But before you make any life altering decisions… maybe you should consider all avenues they will affect."

Bruce's impassiveness fell in place of a confused frown. "What are you talking about?"

"Perhaps you should speak with Alfred. He'll fill you in." Fox shifted the gear into drive. "I've got to run; got a meeting with a number of contractors. I hope I see you again soon, Mr. Wayne."

"I probably wouldn't count it if I were you, Mr. Fox."

"Well you never know for sure – not in this city." Fox smiled cordially. "Until next time…" The sedan drove off the estate as Bruce stepped inside and closed the gates behind it.

* * *

Bruce moved into the study where Alfred would often bring the guests in to see him. Despite refusing any visitors that happened to belong to his father's company, Bruce knew him well enough to know he wouldn't turn Fox away. They were friends in a manner of speaking and Alfred would still follow routine and bring guests and friends into the study.

Not so surprisingly, he found his loyal guardian there, standing near the window in the room, staring out across the beautiful yet bitterly empty grounds of the manor that were once filled with life. Bruce stood in the doorway, fresh from his workout with a towel hanging on his shoulder. For a long moment, the silence remained still as the young Wayne shifted his gaze around the room his father once worked from; another painful memory.

He could see a small tray of tea on the desk where he assumed Lucius and Alfred partook in morning refreshment. Bruce's gaze wandered back to Alfred who had remained silent this whole time with his back turned to him. Bruce shrugged.

"Fox said you have something to tell me?

"Indeed, sir." Alfred turned from the window; the spirit in his face was alarmingly diminished. Bruce couldn't help but feel a bit concerned by this. Alfred held out a newspaper to him. "Read."

Bruce walked in and took the paper from him. It was today's edition of the Gotham Times. The paper was opened to the stock section. Bruce's expression fell as he read through it. "That's quite a drop…" He met Alfred's eyes knowingly. "Let me guess…"

"Your decisions and inactivity has brought consequences to Wayne Enterprises. When the only son and heir of Thomas Wayne has come home, and after a year has yet to set foot inside his father's company, it tends to make shareholders a bit nervous about the future of the company." Alfred reproved.

"And you think me jumping into a tailored suit and strutting into the office will help solve this?" Bruce stressed.

"It's would be a start, Master Wayne; committing yourself, taking an active role and showing the public that this city still has someone that cares for its future and well-being."

"What-like my parents did?!" Bruce shot back angrily. "You think a little philanthropy and well-wishing is gonna fix this city, Alfred? It's gone to hell – it happened a long time ago. What difference will it make if I get involved now?"

Alfred picked up the newspaper and showed Bruce a rueful headline showing a number of homeless boys sleeping on street corners in the Narrows – the worst part of Gotham. "It will make the world of difference – to them." Alfred entreated.

Bruce stiffly bit back his aggressive tongue as his eyes scanned the article. The boys were no more than 14 – maybe 15 years of age and they were out fending for themselves without the comfort of a home or family to warm them at night. The article made mention that that the orphanages were full and didn't have room to admit them. Bruce frowned at this.

"I don't understand." His tone was softer. "Doesn't the Wayne Foundation fund the orphanages in the city?"

"They do – when the foundation isn't suffering as Wayne Enterprises currently is." Alfred took the newspaper from Bruce and gently folded it. "People like these are the ones who need your help, sir. They above all depend on the good work and ideals that began with your mother and father many years ago…" Alfred's voice cracked at the memory of his good friends. His eyes searched Bruce's beseechingly. "If not you…who else will carry on your family's legacy?"

Bruce remained silent through Alfred's words; his mind torn between what needed to be done and what he wanted most right now. There was no questioning the logic and truth to Alfred's words now, but it wasn't a comfort – far from it. Part of him wanted to believe that the city didn't need him, not in the way that Alfred and Rachel had advised him. But looking at the photos of the boys, who looked lost and empty as he once stood in the alley he lost his parents in, made him realize just how selfish and ignorant he had become…

He hung his head briefly as Selina returned to his mind… Just as much as he wanted to find a way to save Gotham, he felt compelled to get away from it; to help another who wanted a fresh start just the same as him. Being with Selina helped him to forget the pain… she made him happy.

He released a disgruntled sigh as he faced Alfred again. "Use my personal funds to help the foundation. It'll be enough to get things moving again."

"Throwing money at the problem won't make it go away, sir. What the people of this city need is an example to look towards – a hope to cling to."

Bruce shook his head. "I can't do that as Bruce Wayne… I'm sorry, Alfred…I just can't." He swallowed softly, restraining the sorrow within him as he turned away from his friend and headed to the door.

Fear gripped Alfred as he watched Bruce leave; the growing pit of despair within him fully manifesting as he hung his head silently.

* * *

After his talk with Alfred, Bruce had isolated himself as he often did in his moments of doubt and uncertainty. Once he was done showering and dressed in casual clothes, he sat in a chair in his room for hours. It didn't help him figure out his problem as the deafening silence surrounding him if anything made things harder to focus on the present.

This entire place…it was like a tomb to him; a grim tale of a once bright and cheery childhood.

Glancing at the clock on his nightstand, Bruce could see it was the middle of the afternoon; too early to be shut-in all day. Standing up from his seat, he picked up his coat and threw it on – his phone following into his pocket soon after. He didn't say a word to Alfred as he moved down the stairs and out the front door.

He found himself standing in the graveyard on the estate grounds – the final resting place of his parents and distant relatives. The afternoon hadn't brought a change to the weather as a light drizzle came over him. He stared at their headstones passively while within his mind was engaged with itself in a tug-of-war…

Flight or fight.

Bruce didn't know which his parents would ask of him – prefer of him. They cared about Gotham City; they lost their lives to it trying to help people like the scum that robbed them of their lives… Yet they loved and cared about their only son also. Bruce had heard enough – remembered enough – from Alfred and his past to know his parents wanted him to be happy and to live up to their ideals in helping the people of Gotham.

How could he be happy and take responsibility at the same time?

His mind searched, desperately for a middle-ground, a solution to his dilemma he was facing. He could find none. Gazing up at the tombstones of his parents, Bruce released an apologetic sigh.

"What would you have me do? How can I honor your memory…Save the city…and not lose what is most important to me right now?" He tear hung in the corner of his eye as he knelt down. "How can I abandon her? How can I ignore everyone looking to me to make things right when I don't truly believe… that it is the right way?"

He closed his eyes, the tear falling loose to stream down his cheek before spilling onto the ground.

"Mom… Dad. What do I do…" He remained in hopeless silence for what felt like hours until he opened his eyes and shuddered as he watched a flock of bats fly far overhead, and disappear into the trees surrounding the garden.


	15. Chapter 15 : Wake Up Call

**Chapter 15 : Wake Up Call  
**

* * *

Bruce intended to stay out of sight for the rest of the afternoon, he kept to himself in the bedroom or the main study- he was focusing on his unsettled thoughts of the choices he reluctantly was given the options to make. Everything felt like it was piling on his shoulders, the pressure of Wayne Enterprises was toxic to his body,in his heart he wanted to help in any he could to rebuild the declining fortune of his father's company, but his frustrated mind thought differently, when the sounds of footfall started to flow through the mansion , disturbing his concentration on the work he was trying to jot down on a notepad.

"Something bothering you, Master Wayne?" Alfred asked setting a glass of juice on the rounded table.

"Nope," Bruce muttered, scribbling out a word. "I like having all this pressure of my father's company on me. It's Very comforting."

"You haven't let this room in hours...have you eaten anything?"

"Not yet," Bruce replied. " I'll make something when I'm ready."

"Since when do you cook for yourself," Alfred said, crossing his arms. "I've yet to see you boil a pot on the stove."

Bruce looked up at Alfred, shadows crossed over his hazel eyes. "Alfred I just need to be left alone for a bit. I have too much on my mind at the right to even contemplate about cooking dinner. I've been thinking about Wayne Enterprises and my future. But I'm not ready for the responsibility of running an entire company the way my father did before..." he lowered his eyes. "He died. And I have no idea what to do with my life. I'm sick of not knowing what to do with my life."

"The choice of running Wayne Enterprises is about to you to make , Master Wayne. I will not have a part of your affairs. But know that I will support whatever decision you decide to make."

Bruce nodded his head and then he listened to his stomach starting to growl.

"Would you like me to bring the supper that I prepared for you?" Alfred offered.

"No," Bruce answered. He straightened off the floor. "I'm not eating in here."

He quickly drained the glass of juice, and walked out of room and down the hall and when he passed the door he found himself frozen and unable to look away from the unlocked knob. His hand reached for the knob, as he slowly moved closer ready to escape into the night.

Bruce took a few steps back, and paused in thought as his eyes were locked onto the door. Instead he turned around and kept on going until he reached the kitchen, Alfred was there, setting a plate of steaming pasta with sauce down, and he watched his young master park his body onto the pulled out chair with a intense look in his eyes.

"I hope your hungry for seconds...I overdid on the pasta intake." Alfred grinned, watching Bruce take a few bites and swallow in a silent manner. "I take it that you will be seeing Miss Kyle tonight?"

"Maybe...Selina has been busy for a last couple of days." Bruce pursed his lips together. "She's been spending most of her time with her friend's baby. Which is good...Selina is the only family that Holly has left."

Alfred pulled out a chair and sat across from his master. "So what are your plans with Miss Kyle?"

Bruce raised his brows. "Alfred what do you mean?" he asked with a dumbfounded look. "Selina is a remarkable and beautiful woman."

"Indeed. And does she make you happy?"

Bruce grinned at his butler's question, feeling his stomach churn as he took another bite of his dinner. He parted his lips and said in a shaky voice. "She is the best thing that has ever happened to me in a long time. She makes me laugh and brings the life that was taken back into me."

Alfred nodded. "Then perhaps you should tell her that Master Wayne."

"One day. I will Alfred." Bruce replied and finished his dinner. "Not right now."

* * *

Afterwards he went about his usual routine of roaming the streets like an unknown drifter in the shadows, he barely aware of his surroundings and felt lost in his combustion of vengeful thoughts, he never told Alfred where his was heading out too, he was haunted by his actions, it was half-past twelve when he descended down the stairs of the monorail station.

He became elusive to the weary citizens that pass him on the litter filled sidewalks, a lurking shadow of the backdrops and fire-escapes. He sat on the stairwell above Crime Alley sipping a fresh brewed tea from a local doughnut shop watching the GCPD cruisers zoom by with sirens blaring...hearing the sounds of sleepless city and distance roars of rolling thunder from a approaching storm.

He mediated on his past failures and inward grievances of losing his loving parents. He wondered about they would of looked like if he never had gotten scared by the actors dressed in bat costumes...his father would have graying in his temples with crow's feet around his green eyes and his mother were still be elegant with graying hair and wearing the string of pearls proudly around her neck.

A soft whimper disrupted his thoughts through the humid air...it belong to a woman.

He heard it again. His eyes opened to the distantly muffled cry, followed loud baritone voice. It was coming from the other alley. The sound of a woman's plea made his bones feel scorched.

Without any hesitation, Bruce didn't have to think twice. He climbed the fire escape latter, hands gripping the crumbling cement of windows and pulled his weight up. He silently moved along the roof, eyes matching the darkness and then crouched down on the edge and looked down at the alley way. There were two hooded men- one pinning a struggling woman against the wall, the other one fiddling with a gun and daring to pull the trigger. The man holding the woman down was laughing hysterically as he slapped her across the face, holding her wrists as tears streamed down her face and his indent of stripping her clothes was obvious.

Bruce's hand balled into a fist, teeth barred together as he stealthy jumped onto the floor boards of a balcony, knees absorbed the shook as he regained his balance and then something rose up in him. He crashed down and landed on the soles of his feet and he squinted his eyes and glared at the man with the gun. In a darkening flash of movement the armored man released a brief cry as he was thrown into a pile of trash bags, the other man immediately froze, eyes shifting at the shadows as he began looking widely around at the attacker.

"What the Hell are you?" The terrified man holding the woman down shouted in a shaky voice as a third man raced down the alley way, gun pointing high and hand secured on the trigger but soon dropped to the ground with a quick punch to the skull that struck him fiercely from the shadows. Now, scared shitless, he released the woman and made a run for it. But as soon as he caught his breath, a body slammed him against the alley wall, watching his head bang forcefully into the brick.

The thug dropped to his knees and squinted as he fought against the pain of his throbbing skull and his foggy vision produced a silhouette of a tall dark figure. He groaned. "Who are you?"

In a response to the question, Bruce scowled before landing a kick to the man's skull and watched his opponent roll on his back yelping in pain.

With all three men unconscious, Bruce took a deep a intake of breath and turned around to looked at the young victim, who was frozen against the wall with her mouth wide opened and eyes teary eyes staring back at him.

Bruce picked out her wallet that was lying on the ground and tossed it back to her. She caught it but continued to stare at her rescuer with a puzzled look.

"Are you alright?" Bruce rasped out, piercing eyes staring down at her.

..."Yeah," she shuddered, feeling a chill race down her spine. "Thank you."

He gave her a small nod in return and ran off into the shadows, eyes were intense and blood was pumping in his veins from a high leveled adrenaline rush. He grabbed hold of the rung of the latter and pulled himself up until he was back on the roof and swiftly moving back to his deemed perch in Crime Alley.

He crouched his body down and allowed his mind to drift into the memories of his parents, as he felt a pulsing of anger gushing through his veins. He was changing into something that was locked deep within his bones. He slammed his eyes shut and tried to block out the annoying sounds of the sleepless city.

Within moments, after opening his eyes and regaining his thoughts. Bruce jumped onto the pavement, on the very spot of where his parents bodies dropped after the bullets entered their hearts. He looked down at the reflection staring back at him...a visage of a creature driven by rage. Quickly he averted his eyes away and felt a familiar presence closing in on him.

* * *

A metallic sound clicked on slick wet pavement, he drove his stabbing gaze to the umbra of the alley entrance only to find Selina dressed in a leather jacket, sauntering towards him. She cautiously sidestepped the puddles and spoke, "I was wondering where you've hiding lately."

Bruce distressed, to his chagrin and he was close-fisted at thoughts that just couldn't fade into his mind and why he couldn't escape from his own lapse of the death of parents. "I've been busy. Very busy."

Selina shook her head and said, "I know that you're lying Bruce. You've been hiding in the shadows too long with this unsettled anger that's turning you into a narcissistic bastard."

"You don't know what I've lost," Bruce said, blinking water moistened his eyes."It has always been there, all the anger that is dragging me into my own personal hell."

"I know what it's like to lose someone." Selina replied. "Hell, I've lost many friends and family," she lowered her eyes. "I understand you're grief."

"How?" he asked, his body was becoming stone-like when her body inched closer.

"I lost my mother." she swallowed harshly. "I was about six when she was beaten to death by a drunken bastard...I witness every moment of it from her bedroom closet with my little sister."

Bruce creased his deep-set brow. "What didn't you tell me this before?"

"I didn't know...maybe it's because I just don't give a crap about my past."

He drew his eyes away from her and looked at the boarded up opera house covered with spray painted symbols and rotting boards, but her hand trailed down the slope of his harden jaw line, he flashed his eyes and looked at her with a scorching gaze, no words escape as his lips pressed into a fine line.

He rammed his fist into the groves of the brick and cement, making the skin of his knuckles became raw. "Everything..." he growled fiercely, "Everything was taken from me."

"Hey, you're really in a mood tonight," she observed, fluttering her lashes as beads of rain splashed in her eyes. He knew she was waiting for his response-he was wasn't prepared to break barrier his questionable emotions and allow himself to be open to his past failures, concerns and even his childhood dread, and she knew it. "Bruce-"

Without a hint of warning, he lunged into her body and cut her words off with a furious kiss.

Selina leaned her back against the wall, as he encircled his arms around her waist. He pulled her close to his chest, his lips tenderly pressed against hers as both of their bodies became drenched in the rain as he deepened his kiss, covenanting her breath and gripping the leather of her jacket.

"Bruce," she released as grasp, held on him as the rain blanketed over their skin.

"Shut up Selina," he seethed between a few harsh kisses. But he felt his blood boiling under the surface, and he felt the inward conflict of his own tortured mind surging through every fiber of his fuming body.

"What's happening to you?" she panted, lines of mascara running down her cheek as she became entranced to the expose pain etched over his refine features.

"I don't know." he replied with his words laced with bitterness. He set his jaw hard and stared into her. "I feel dead...almost like I don't exist anymore."

Selina's dark brown eyes bore into his hazel eyes, she saw unsettled anger, grief and something else entirely...shadowy existence hidden inside him that was craving for its retribution. She caressed her hand on his cheek as he closed his eyes for a moment, her fingers slid down the curvatures of his face and thumb grazed over his lips.

She clenched her jaw hard, and her tone became gentle as she replied fighting the unnerving tears. "You exist to me. You exist to Alfred, Bruce; we don't want to lose you."

Bruce said nothing. He bought his lips down to the side of her neck, kissed her sensitive spots as he slowly pulled away and gazed into her caliginous eyes. He noticed a change in her; she was more confident and full of determination. She was maturing into a woman- no longer a teenager but a woman of decision, strength and dedication to her own ideals.

He fondled his fingers through her damp strands and focused an enduring gaze into her allure, he saw a shroud of darkness concealing her youth, she now wore a mask.

Bruce sheathed his arms around her, she rested her head on his shoulder feeling his soft lips press down her throat. She knew they were changing as facades started to mask their true selves.

Neither of them spoke as tears moved smoothly off their faces and dissolved into the formations of puddles underneath them.


End file.
